


Lovers' Moon

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-12
Updated: 2009-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hercules learns he has a daughter he never knew about...and she's in big trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dione

The message came out of the blue.

It was just an ordinary day, if such a thing existed. Hercules and Iolaus were just passing through a small town in central Attica; Hercules had been talking about maybe visiting his mother, since they seemed to have time, when Salmonius accosted them with yet another get-rich-quick scheme, which (naturally) relied on Hercules’ endorsement for its success.

"Salmonius…" Hercules raised his eyes to heaven as if looking for divine inspiration, "for the thousandth time, I am not…will you shut up!" That last was directed at Iolaus, who was having serious trouble holding back the giggles inspired by Hercules’ attempts to refuse without offending the over-eager salesman.

"Sorry, Herc," Iolaus managed to say.

"So here’s the slogan." Salmonius raised his hands in a grand gesture. They never discovered what his slogan was. Before the salesman could speak, a child, a little girl, came running up to them, almost bowling over Salmonius in her haste.

Hercules reached down and caught the child before she fell. He set her down on the ground in front of him, crouching down to talk to her. "Hey, what’s all the hurry about?" A quick glance around had failed to reveal anyone she might have been running from.

She was out of breath, and just stared at the big man for a few minutes, panting. Hercules waited for her. Eventually, she puffed out, "Are…are you…Hercules?"

A brief frown crossed his face. That question was usually the start of trouble. "Yes, I am," he told her warily.

She gave him a gap-toothed grin and dug into a pocket. "Lady said to give you this," she announced, producing a folded scrap of parchment.

Hercules accepted it, but didn’t look at it, not yet. "What lady?" he asked her.

"The lady at the temple." The girl, having completed her task, turned and scampered away.

"Hey, wait!" Hercules called after her. _Temple? There’s no temple near here_. But she was gone, dodging between people too fast for even Hercules to catch her. Sighing, he unfolded the parchment. On it was a single symbol. _Oh, by the gods…_ Hercules felt the blood draining from his face. He had to steady himself against the wall, the sudden flood of memories overwhelming him.

"So, what about my…" Salmonius spoke up as if nothing had happened.

"Salmonius, shut up!" Iolaus snapped. "Herc…what is it?"

Hercules looked up from the parchment. He hardly even saw Iolaus. "I have to go," he said, turning away abruptly.

"Hey! What about…" Salmonius was left behind as Hercules strode away.

Iolaus hurried to catch up with his friend. "Herc! Wait!" Hercules didn’t even glance back. When Iolaus finally caught up with him, he had to grab his friend’s arm to make him slow down. "What’s going on?" he demanded.

Hercules finally slowed down enough to talk. "Iolaus, There isn’t time to explain. I have to go."

"What’s all this _I_ stuff? I thought we did things together."

"I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Iolaus. Hunters aren’t exactly welcome where I’m going."

"What?" Iolaus shook his head, confused. "You’re not making sense, Herc. Where – "

"Calydon Forest."

"Why?"

"I don’t know, yet." Hercules kept walking, Iolaus kept following.

Calydon Forest. There were many stories about Calydon, and Iolaus knew most of them. The stories were inconsistent and contradictory, but they all agreed on one thing: Calydon Forest was the lair of a fearsome monster of some kind. Ironically, that was the one part of the story Iolaus had dismissed: surely if there was really a monster there, Hercules would have gone after it before now. But everyone knew Calydon was a place best avoided.

"I don’t get it, Herc." Iolaus tried again. "What’s that note? Why are we dropping everything for whoever sent it?" He moved around to stand directly in Hercules’ path, blocking his way.

Hercules stopped walking and looked at him. "Someone needs my help, Iolaus. Don’t I always drop everything for that?"

"There you go again. _I_. What happened to _we_?" It felt like a rejection of their friendship, and that hurt. "Don’t you want me with you?"

Iolaus’ words finally reached his friend. Hercules was silent for a long moment. "I feel like I shouldn’t involve you," he tried to explain. "Because of where I’m going, because I don’t know what I’ll find when I get there. But it’s up to you, Iolaus."

"Then I’m coming," he said firmly. "What’s in that message?"

Wordlessly, Hercules handed him the parchment. Iolaus looked at the scrawled symbol. It was a circle and two crescents: one on either side of the circle. He stared at it, uncomprehendingly. He handed it back to Hercules, his confusion showing in his eyes.

Hercules tucked the parchment into his belt. "It’s a reminder," he tried to explain, "of a debt. A very old debt." And although Iolaus tried to get him to talk, that was all he would say.

***

Hercules seemed intent on travelling all night. Iolaus, a mere mortal, couldn’t possibly keep up the pace Hercules set for that long, and it was only Iolaus’ obvious exhaustion that persuaded Hercules to stop and make camp. After a long drink of water and a meal, Iolaus felt rested enough to talk, at least. He was very worried about his friend. Sure, Herc was always one to drop everything if someone needed his help. This seemed different, somehow. It was as if Hercules knew more than he was saying.

Hercules had never lied to him, but Iolaus _had_ known him to conceal the truth on occasions, or simply not mention something he thought his friend was better off not knowing. The incident with Nemesis was a perfect example. It had taken Hercules over a year to admit that all Iolaus’ trouble that day had been set up by the gods’ assassin. If he was doing the same thing now, Iolaus just had to find the right questions, and rely on the knowledge that Herc couldn’t bring himself to lie. So, when he saw the opportunity, Iolaus raised the subject again. Hercules definitely didn’t want to talk about it. He avoided Iolaus’ first tentative questions, deliberately misunderstanding.

Suddenly Iolaus laughed. "You’re embarrassed! That’s what it is." He looked slyly at Hercules; the big demi-god wouldn’t meet his eyes. That confirmed to Iolaus that his conclusion was the right one. "Oh, that does it, Herc. Now you’ve gotta tell me. Come on." He leaned forward with a grin.

"Alright!" Hercules gave in. "It’s not embarrassing, Iolaus. It’s not even a secret, really. It’s just… something I don’t discuss. I think you’ll understand when you hear it."

***

Hercules took a deep breath and launched into the story. "I’m not sure how long ago…fifteen, maybe sixteen years, I was in Troy. The people had been driven out by Hera and her Blue Cult. I helped them reclaim their city. You know that story, right?" He glanced at Iolaus for confirmation. Iolaus nodded.

"Hera was determined to take Princess Deianeira as a sacrifice. At the end, when I stopped the sacrifice and killed the priest, Hera tried to take the girl directly." Hercules remembered the dreadful feeling of helplessness when he watched the brave, young girl being drawn up into the maelstrom of Hera’s power. Zeus stood beside him; neither of them could stop it. Helplessness was replaced by rage when Deianeira’s pleading eyes met his, and he had done the impossible: pitted his own strength against the power of the goddess and won. At a price.

Hercules saved the princess, throwing her into Zeus’ arms and trusting the god to protect her, but he couldn’t save himself. He remembered his terror when he realised Hera would take him instead of the girl; the certainty that this would be the end of his life; his desperate fight for breath as the maelstrom lifted him higher and higher. She could have killed him easily. For some reason – the only thing he could think of was Zeus must have intervened – Hera had allowed him to live. Hours, possibly days later she threw him back to earth. It was a fall no mortal could have survived. Hercules lay there for a few moments, just savouring the ability to breathe again, then he slowly picked himself up and looked around.

He had no idea where he was. There was no sign of a road, no sign of anything that would indicate the presence of people. He wasn’t even sure he was in Greece. Only that he was no longer anywhere near Troy.

Since it seemed his only option, Hercules started to walk. By late afternoon he was travelling through thick forest, and he still hadn’t spotted anything familiar. The journey was hard going: he was walking down a very steep hill, and the trees were so thick it was hard to check the position of the sun. Giving up, finally, he decided to make camp for the night. He found a small stream and drank, caught himself a rabbit and built up a fire to roast it. While his supper cooked, he sat down, by then glad for the rest. He was incredibly tired: the aftermath of his little adventure with Hera more than the result of the long walk. He closed his eyes.

A sound behind him made him suddenly alert. He turned, and saw a woman standing there. She wore a gown of white and silver, with a pendant of some kind between her breasts. She had an exotic kind of beauty: a mass of dark curls surrounded a face dominated by large, almond shaped eyes. With her lips curved in a gentle smile there was an air of serenity about her. She was also the first human being Hercules had seen since the decidedly unconventional way he left Troy. She didn’t seem to be a threat, so he offered a welcoming smile.

It was she who spoke first. "You are in danger, traveller. This is not a safe place to remain after dark." Her voice was musical, pleasant to hear.

Hercules frowned slightly. "That’s a rather vague warning. What’s so dangerous?"

She took a few steps closer to him. "The Chimera roams Calydon wood at night. A sleeping man is easy prey."

_Calydon? Is **that** where I am?_ Hercules didn’t think he would be in much danger from this beast, but he was grateful for the warning. "What about you?" he asked her curiously. "Aren’t you in danger from this…Chimera?"

"I will not be, when darkness falls." She looked worried. "Traveller, don’t dismiss this warning, I beg you."

"I’m not sure I have any choice. I’m tired, I have to rest. How far will I have to go to get out of the forest?"

She was silent, watching him for a long while. Hercules was beginning to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny and was wondering if she was going to answer when she spoke again. "It is not far to my home. You will be safe there."

It was not an offer made lightly, Hercules realised, and for the first time he began to consider that there might be real danger. "Thank you," he said. Was the danger from some beast, or from her, he wondered, remembering suddenly who had left him here. Uncertainly, he asked her why she wanted to help him.

A mysterious smile. "Because of what you are."

"And what is that?"

"Hercules. The Son of Zeus. The Slayer of the Hydra. The Enemy of Hera. The Liberator of Troy." She saw his eyes widen in surprise at that last. "Come, surely you don’t fear me? I am merely a woman, alone, unarmed. I have no reason to wish you harm. If I did, I would have let you sleep here."

And there she had a point, he was forced to admit. Still somewhat wary, he accepted her offer.

She smiled again, the expression lighting up her face like magic. "Come, then. Bring your rabbit: it will feed two."

He did as she suggested, kicking earth over his campfire to douse it before he followed her.

Her name was Dione. The place she called her home was a small cave in the side of the hill, reached by a steep, rocky path. She obviously lived alone and clearly she knew how to take care of herself. There was no bed, but an area of the floor was covered with furs, padded with dried grasses and sweet-smelling ferns, and, incongruously, a number of silk cushions. At the back of the cave was something that looked very like an altar: a stone table covered with a cloth and decorated with flowers and four other items: a painted stone, a bowl of unlit incense, a single beeswax candle and a silver cup. If it was an altar, Hercules saw nothing that would indicate to which god or goddess it was dedicated. It put him on guard, but he decided not to ask: Dione would tell him if she wanted him to know.

Dione opened a chest, one of several lining one side of her cave, and drew out a couple of wooden plates and a knife. Before long, they were sitting down to a meal of rabbit, which she supplemented with fruit and some dried herbs Hercules couldn’t quite identify: a rather salty flavour. It made for an excellent, and welcome meal, and Hercules thanked her.

She smiled at the compliment. "Thank _you_. I don’t often have company."

"You live here alone?" Hercules’ question was tentative. He was curious, but didn’t want to offend her by prying too closely.

She nodded. "Since my mother died I have been alone here. That’s…" she paused, thinking, "I’m not certain. At least seven years."

"And I’m the first person you’ve seen since then?" he asked her, incredulous.

"No," she corrected. "I warn anyone passing through the forest, just as I warned you. But of those who choose to ignore the warning, you are the first I thought worth saving. I won’t protect reckless men from their own foolishness." Her voice hardened a little as she spoke and Hercules watched her with interest. Her soft way of speaking and her ready smiles gave the impression she was naïve, maybe a little helpless, but Dione was clearly neither. To have survived for so long, alone, she must be a remarkable woman. An unusual one, too: she didn’t seem to miss human contact, although she’d said she was glad for his company. She was an enigma, and Hercules found himself intrigued by her.

Did she really live alone here? She had known his name, and seemed to know at least some of the many stories about him. If she had truly been alone for seven years that was impossible, wasn’t it? And how had she known about Troy?

He asked her how she lived, and she seemed willing to answer, explaining to him how easy it was to live off the land, that since she was alone, she had time to search for food, to make the things she needed: bowls and baskets, tools. Hercules pointed out the few things in the cave that were clearly not made by her hands (a silver cup, some knives) and she told him they were old: her mother’s things. She answered all his questions with a disarming forthrightness, but he couldn’t help feeling she was concealing something.

While they talked, a full moon rose in the sky above the cave. In its light, they hardly needed the fire. After a while, Dione told Hercules he should sleep: she had noticed how tired he was. She offered him a blanket, but he refused: it wasn’t a cold night, and the fire she kept in the cave’s mouth supplied enough warmth. He did as she suggested, lay down and tried to sleep, but the questions spinning around his thoughts kept him awake. He heard her leave the cave, and knew a moment of worry: she had told him that a beast hunted here at night. Then he remembered that she’d lived here for years. Dione surely knew whether there was any danger. He tried to relax.

After a time, perhaps an hour, Hercules, still unable to sleep, heard Dione return. She went to the altar at the back of the cave. Hercules debated with himself: he didn’t want to disturb her, but at the same time, courtesy dictated he should let her know he was awake. When the faint smell of incense reached him, he opted for staying exactly where he was.

He needn’t have worried about eavesdropping. Dione began to chant, but her voice was so quiet he couldn’t hear a word she said…and stopped himself when he realised he’d been straining to hear. A cool breeze blew into the cave and suddenly Hercules was aware of another presence. The last thing he knew before sleep rose up to claim him was the voice of a goddess speaking Dione’s name.

***

Hercules awoke to find Dione in his arms. The full moon shone through the cave’s entrance and he could see her face clearly: In the moonlight her skin seemed very pale, her eyebrows, arching above closed eyes, and her long eyelashes stood out in stark contrast. Her dark curls were in disarray, and her lips, slightly parted, showed the ghost of a smile. There was an unnatural quiet: none of the night-sounds he would expect in a forested area. Only her breathing and his own heartbeat broke the silence.

Perhaps because of that quiet, the night had a dreamlike quality…Hercules was not even certain he was awake. Surely he hadn’t slept so soundly that she could have come into his arms and not disturbed him? Dione stirred in her sleep and moved closer to him; Hercules found himself holding her tenderly. A smile touched his lips as he gazed at her: Dione was a very beautiful woman. For a while he simply watched her. Then, purely on impulse, Hercules bent his head and kissed those inviting lips.

Her body stiffened in his arms as she woke suddenly. Her eyes flew open, and when she saw him he felt her relax once more, and she returned his smile. He caressed her face with his fingertips, her forehead, her soft cheek, her mouth and chin. He traced a line along her jaw to her ear, then ran his fingers through her dark curls as he bent to kiss her again. This time she responded as he’d hoped; her lips parted beneath his as his tongue sought hers. He took his time, exploring her mouth gently…the kiss was long, and deep, and intimate.

Dione’s hand slipped beneath his shirt, moving over the hard muscles of his chest with a gentle, almost tentative touch. Before he knew what she was doing, his shirt hung open and she was pushing it from his shoulders. Hercules stopped kissing her long enough to help, then took her back into his strong arms. He held her close to him, enjoying the simple warmth of her body next to his. He kissed her lips, kissed every part of her face, while his hands moved over her body, shoulders and arms, the curves of her waist and hips…she guided his hand to her breast and he felt its warm fullness through the satin of her dress, felt the nipple contract beneath his exploring fingers, felt her breath warm on his face as she sighed her pleasure.

Hercules drew back then, his eyes seeking her consent before he moved to unlace her dress. He undressed her slowly, pausing to kiss her neck, her breast, her stomach as each was revealed to his sight. When she lay naked before him, he unbelted his trousers quickly. She reached up and moved his hands away, taking over the task herself. She ran her hands over the front of his trousers, feeling the hard bulge of his manhood beneath the leather before she finally allowed him to remove them. He lay beside her, their naked bodies touching, and bent to kiss her again.

She shifted in his arms as they kissed, her legs parting, inviting his entry. Hercules’ mouth left hers, he left a trail of kisses as he moved down her neck to the hollow of her throat, further down her body to her breasts. He took one rosy nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, and as her soft moans encouraged him, with greater force. As he suckled first one breast, then the other, he let his hand wander down her body, exploring her stomach, her hips and thighs. Between her parted legs at last, his hand stroked the soft curled hair above her womanhood. She moved her hips against his hand and slowly, teasingly, he parted those soft folds, finding her hot and wet and ready. A wordless cry escaped her when he found the small, throbbing bump within her folds and began to rub. He raised his head from her breasts to look at her: her head was thrown back, dark curls spread out around, her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her perfect lips parted as she gasped and moaned her pleasure.

Hercules had intended to wait, to hold himself back, give her as much pleasure as he could before taking his own. She surprised him, suddenly taking control and pushing him onto his back. Dione rolled over until he lay beneath her and she straddled his body, lowering herself onto his erect manhood. For a moment she was still, with him inside her, helpless beneath her, and Hercules groaned. He couldn’t stand this, he had to move, to touch her. She began to move slowly and Hercules reached for her hips, guiding her movements. His hands moved up to her back and he sat up, holding her close until she sat in his lap, her legs around his waist and with his hardness buried deep inside her body. In this position he could barely move, but she could, and did, sliding up and down his shaft with slow, teasing strokes until he couldn’t stand it any more. He kissed her hungrily and her rhythm changed, speeding up, her hips grinding against his as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

She cried out again as the tide of feeling began to surge within her. Hercules opened his eyes, wanting to look at her as she came. Their eyes met and…something _shifted_. Whatever he had been feeling before, he was now feeling twice as much, even more. Her fingers on his skin as she held him were searing fire, her movements exquisite torture, her kiss beyond belief. He couldn’t have held back if he’d wanted to, and didn’t try. The wave crested and broke, they cried out their pleasure together, the climax mutual, incredible, exhausting.

Reality snapped back into place. Hercules held her close to him and she rested her head on his shoulder. He stroked her dark curls gently and after a few moments she raised her head, sought his mouth and kissed him. "Dione, that was…" he started to say, but she raised a finger to his lips, silencing him. He had no words for it anyway. They lay down together, she cuddled close to his warmth, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Hercules held her, watching the play of moonlight on her hair, until, some time later, they both slept.

***

Hercules woke slowly, sunlight and birdsong penetrating vague dreams to bring him to consciousness. Opening his eyes he found himself alone, and for a moment wondered why that should surprise him before he remembered. Had that incredible experience been real? Or could he have dreamed it? Fully awake, now, he sat up. He looked down at his unclothed body, looked at Dione’s white and silver gown lying where he remembered leaving it and concluded that his memories of the night were real. Reaching for his leather trousers and boots he dressed quickly. He picked up his shirt, then changed his mind, walking barechested out of the cave.

He found Dione just outside, and stopped dead, a momentary fear clutching his heart.

Dione stood facing a huge beast. It looked more like a boar than anything else, but several times bigger: easily Hercules’ height. Its coat was black, matted fur. Two, wickedly sharp, curved tusks protruded from either side of its mouth, and its breath came in regular, sharp grunts. Standing only a few feet away from the creature, Dione looked terribly small, vulnerable, the thin white dress she wore no possible protection.

Hercules tensed, ready to act, when she suddenly turned and saw him there.

Calmly, she met his tense gaze. "Don’t be afraid," she said softly. Dione turned back to the beast, offering her hand. It moved toward her and she touched its snout between the tusks. It snorted and shook its head. Dione moved closer, put her arms round the creature and cuddled it.

Hercules just watched in amazement. Bizarrely, her actions brought to mind the image of a child playing with a puppy.

Dione spoke to the creature, her voice low. "No, silly. He’s just a man. He’ll be leaving soon." She paused, as if listening, then said, "He won’t harm you. I promise." She turned back to Hercules, her hands still on the creature. "Hercules, he’s afraid. Come here, let me prove you’re a friend."

What else could he do? Hercules approached as she directed, slowly, keeping his eyes on the beast. She took his hand and made him touch the creature: its fur was wiry, but warm.

"There, that’s better," she said with satisfaction. At her words, the creature turned and trotted away, leaving Hercules (a man more accustomed to slaying monsters than petting them) to stare at Dione, quite baffled by the scene he had witnessed.

She turned to him with a beautiful smile. &lt;&lt;_Why so confused?_&gt;&gt;

He started. Had he really heard that?

&lt;&lt;_Yes._&gt;&gt;

"Dione?" Hercules stepped toward her, intending to take her into his arms. As she turned toward him, the sunlight flashed on the pendant she wore. Curious, Hercules reached for the silver disk, turning it over in his hand.

The pendant was inscribed with a symbol: three moons, waxing, full and waning. The sign of the goddess Hecate.

***

"Hecate is Hera’s sister," Iolaus said.

Hercules nodded. "Yes, she is." He looked at his hunter friend’s confused expression. "What’s wrong?"

"This Dione is the one who sent that message, right?"

"Yes."

"And she serves Hecate?"

"Yes."

"Hera’s sister?" Iolaus repeated. "Hecate was behind that she-demon that almost killed me."

Hercules frowned. He wasn’t so sure about that. "Maybe she was. But don’t assume it was Hecate just because someone told you so. Hecate is older than Hera and Zeus both. She plays by her own rules and acknowledges no king: not Hades as king of the underworld or Zeus as king of the gods. But she’s not evil, Iolaus, just …independent." Iolaus didn’t look convinced. Hercules added, "And when I fought the she-demon, the only goddess I saw was Hera." He sighed. "It doesn’t make any difference. I still have to answer Dione."

"Why?" Iolaus asked, still not convinced. "I mean, obviously you care about this woman, but I’m getting the feeling that there’s more to it than that."

"You’re right, there is. If you hadn’t interrupted me, I’d have finished the story by now."

Iolaus flashed a grin. "Oh. Sorry."

***

Hercules thought for a few moments, then picked up his story. "Dione called herself Hecate’s daughter. Not literally – she was fully mortal – but in a spiritual sense. She was more than just her priestess. I’ll admit, Iolaus, when I first saw that pendant my reaction wasn’t much different from yours…"

…But Dione had merely laughed off his vague fears. She had a gift, the power to share her thoughts and feelings with another. She had opened herself completely to Hercules, and within that contact there was no room for deceit, nor for doubt – on either side. An acquaintance that should have taken months was accomplished in minutes. Hercules learned of her joy in her simple, if solitary, life; of her deep bond with the creature he had seen – a bond of mutual protection; he learned of her love for her goddess…and he learned many other things besides, including the significance of their lovemaking the previous night. In the same way, she learned much of his life: his childhood, his friends, his adventures. This, Hercules realised, was how she had known him when they first met: she had peeked into his mind and discovered the information she wanted. Small wonder she had known about Troy: it had been very much on his mind. And Hercules hadn’t even been aware of what she’d been doing. It should have offended him; instead he found he understood.

Hercules stayed with Dione for three more days – and nights. That first morning she had tried to encourage him to leave, but Hercules knew by then that she wanted him to stay longer. Dione told him that if he stayed, there would be a cost, a price to pay: such was the law of the goddess she served. Even with that warning, it hadn’t been a difficult decision. Hercules had stayed, willingly accepting the unknown consequences. Those three days had been wonderful.

_Wonderful_ didn’t even begin to describe Dione. She was both powerful and frail, naïve and wise all at once, pure of heart, as generous with her body – and eager for his – during those days as she had been the first night. She showed him around her forest, its plants, its animals, its secret paths. They swam together in a pool she knew and made love at the water’s edge.

She made no demands. Hercules and Dione both knew they had different destinies. He knew she could never leave Calydon, she had known from the start that he would have to leave. In the end, it was that knowledge that prevented him staying longer: leaving her behind was heartbreaking as it was.

She walked with him to the edge of the forest. Hercules didn’t have to tell her how he felt: her empathic gift would be telling her far more clearly than any words of his. They stood at the edge of the trees, looking out into the world beyond – a world she had never seen. Hercules kissed her tenderly, one last time.

As Dione drew away from him, her hand lightly caressed his cheek, and for the first time he saw her sadness. Yet even through her tears she smiled. "You leave a part of yourself with me," she said quietly.

It was amazing how she managed to find exactly the right words for what he was feeling. He realised it was true. The peace of spirit he had known with her was something special, and a part of his heart was now hers: a love that, whatever might follow in his life, he would never lose entirely. Still holding her hands within his, he told her, "I will never forget you."

"I know," she whispered.

***

Most of this Hercules couldn’t tell Iolaus. It was too private to share, and mere words could never convey the essence. But there was one thing he had to add to the story:

"Before I left, Dione asked me for a promise. A promise to return to Calydon if she needed me, no matter what else I was doing, whoever else needed my help. I had accepted there was a price for the time I spent there, and I gave her my word.

"This…" Hercules held up the scrap of parchment he had been given, "…is Dione’s summons. Iolaus, it wouldn’t matter if Hera and Ares both are waiting for me. I have to go to her."

Iolaus absorbed this speech in silence. He glanced at his friend. Hercules was leaning back against a tree, staring at the waning moon above their heads. In his hands, a piece of wood Hercules had absently picked up was being mercilessly shredded to pieces.

"You’re really worried, aren’t you?" Iolaus said finally.

Not looking at him, Hercules answered. "It’s been so long, Iolaus. Fifteen years. Something terrible must have happened for Dione to send for me now." His eyes were fixed on the waning moon.

***

Miles away, under that same moon, a woman waited. The waning moon symbolised endings, death, decay. Her time was short. With shaking hands, Dione raised a cup to her lips. The golden liquid slid down her throat and she sighed with relief, her physical pain receding for a time. With effort, she moved to the cave’s mouth, raising her eyes to the moon’s narrowing crescent.

"Hecate, help me," she begged aloud. "There is so little time. Dark Lady, let him come soon." And one more word, before the oblivion of sleep overtook her. "Hercules…"

His name is a prayer, a fading hope.


	2. Alani

"_You’re_ Hercules?"

Hercules tried hard not to give away his reaction to that one. _Wouldn’t it be nice if someday I just got, "Good to meet you, Hercules." Or maybe just, "Hello."_ Iolaus caught his eye and grinned.

"Yes, I am," Hercules answered the man.

"Boy, am I glad to see you! I didn’t think Marcus would find you so quickly."

_Uh-oh_. "Uh…who?" Damn it! They were only a mile from Calydon. He didn’t want to be sucked in to someone else’s problems until he’d seen Dione.

The man – keeper of the tavern where Iolaus had insisted they stop – was still speaking. "You will help us, won’t you, Hercules?"

Hercules exchanged a glance with Iolaus. "Maybe you should tell me about your problem."

There was a small crowd gathering around them. The tavern keeper said, "The beast of Calydon, of course. Didn’t Marcus tell you?"

"I haven’t seen Marcus. I’m just passing through." Hercules had a very bad feeling about this, suddenly. "Just tell me about it, would you?"

"Three nights ago the beast went through Echion’s farm. Killed three people and most of his livestock. Then…"

"Are you sure it was a beast?" Hercules interrupted. "Not men?"

An elderly man spoke up from the crowd. "It left pig-tracks the size of your head. I saw ’em."

The tavern-keeper picked up the tale. "Two nights ago it got a young couple in the fields. And last night…"

"OK, I’m getting the picture." Hercules received Dione’s summons two days ago. If he understood correctly, that was the day after this "beast" started to cause trouble. "And nothing like this happened before three nights ago?" he asked, to confirm it.

The people around them exchanged glances. "Well," the old man said, eventually, "there’s been stories for years. No one goes near the wood if they plan to come out alive. And my grandfather had some stories…"

"But recently?"

"No. Nothing until three nights ago."

"Just what we need, Herc." Iolaus shrugged, burying his face in a foaming tankard. "Another monster."

"Well, we won’t be fighting this one, yet. I have to see Dione first, remember?"

Iolaus stared at him. "Herc, are you nuts? This monster is killing people!"

"Iolaus." Hercules spoke quietly, conscious of the crowd around him. "This started three nights ago. The night before we started this journey." _Put it together, Iolaus,_ he was thinking.

"Yeah, but…"

Mentally, Hercules shrugged. _Is it my imagination, or is Iolaus being denser than usual?_ "I’m not going to argue about this, Iolaus. You wait for me here. Enjoy your ale. You might even like to find out a bit more about this beast. I’ll try to be back before dark." Quickly he strode away, leaving Iolaus, and the people of the village, to stare after him. He didn’t look back.

***

Even after fifteen years, Hercules could have found Dione’s cave blindfold. The forest seemed not to have changed at all: he found her pool and followed the well-remembered path from there, up the rocky hill to her cave. He was trying to tell himself not to worry, but in truth he had no idea what to expect: _he_ had changed in fifteen years, it would be foolish to expect her to be the same. But nothing, not even his worst fears, prepared him for what he found.

Dione’s cave was a mess. The chests that stood along one wall and the drying rack where she’d kept her herbs had been smashed to pieces: it looked like the work of an axe. There was broken glass on the floor, the spilled liquids left uncleaned. A stain among the debris looked like dried blood. Her altar, too, was untidy. Hercules had seen similar scenes too often not to recognise the signs of a struggle, a fight. All this, however, was secondary, barely noticed.

The worst thing was his first sight of Dione. Hercules found her curled up on the ground just inside the cave. There was a fur wrapped around her shoulders; beneath it her once-white gown was dusty and grey. She had always been slender, now she was thin. Her hair, once gorgeous dark curls, was streaked with white, and hung limply around her face. Fear filled Hercules’ heart as he knelt beside her. He reached for her and she lifted her head. She looked, not merely older, but old: deep lines etched into her face around the eyes and mouth. That shocked him more than anything.

Speechless, Hercules lifted her into his arms, cradling her thin body tenderly. She looked up at him and their eyes met.

The world changed. For an instant the years rolled back: it was fifteen years earlier and he had never left Calydon, never known Deianeira or Serena, loved only Dione. Then the moment passed.

&lt;&lt;_I knew you would come_&gt;&gt; Oh, that mind-speech. He’d forgotten how intimate that felt. Then she drew a painful breath and he heard her voice, hoarse and weak. "What…day?"

He knew what she was asking. "Tonight the moon will be dark," he told her. "Dione, what happened here?"

Her eyes were full of pain. "Can’t…say. There’s no…time. …Trust…me?"

"With my life."

"Open…"

This was hard. Hercules had been through a lot in the past fifteen years, and it was not easy to lower his barriers. Hercules would have walked through fire if she asked it without so much as a second thought, but for a moment he thought she had asked the one thing he couldn’t do. If he trusted her, he could do it, he reminded himself. He met her eyes once again…

***

_The girl’s silvery laugher rang out again and Dione turned to catch the carved bowl she threw. She dropped it and fumbled, managing to catch it just before it hit the floor. "Alani!" she protested. "Be more careful." She put the bowl away and had begun to close the chest when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. She was dimly aware of the girl rushing to her side. Dizziness turned to fear._

_"Dione, what is it?" Alani asked, concerned._

_"It’s the Chimera," she gasped. There was a sharp pain in her back. "Hunters!" Dione ran from the cave. Alani followed her and Dione turned back. "No. Wait here."_

_"I want to come with you."_

_"Not this time. Wait here, Alani." Not waiting for the girl’s response, Dione hurried into the trees. Her senses led her unerringly to where the creature she protected was. Dione approached with caution, seeing the hunters already surrounding the Chimera. In the daytime he was hardly a threat to anyone: he was too slow, his eyesight too poor, his bulk worked against him. That pain in her back: the poor creature had already been speared. Silently, Dione called on Hecate for aid. These men had come here to kill: they would accept neither Dione’s authority nor her warning. She felt the goddess’s response as a promise of power. She looked above, and with her magic loosened a branch of one of the trees, bringing it down on one of the hunters. As it hit him the arrow he had been about to shoot was loosed. It only took a little effort to divert the arrow from its target into another of the men. She heard a man scream with pain._

_Moments later it was over. Two men lay dead: one gored by the Chimera in its frantic attempts to escape its pain, the other killed by his comrade’s arrow. The others lay about the clearing, two if them unconscious, the third trapped by that fallen branch. Dione was free to approach, now, and she did. The Chimera was an old friend, she his trusted companion. At her touch, he calmed almost instantly, and she felt his pain anew. Calling on Hecate again she examined the creature’s wound, and slowly poured her healing power into it._

_The healing took a lot of effort. To move things was easy: she merely borrowed power from all around her, the energies of nature. Healing required the sacrifice of her own life-force, which she could replenish naturally over the following days. It was exhausting work, and Dione knew it would take her hours to recover her strength. Once she had assured herself that the Chimera would be well, she turned and stumbled from the clearing, returning to her cave. Dione did not consider hiding her tracks, she had never needed to do such a thing. Only a few times in her long guardianship had it been necessary for her to defend the Chimera, and on each of those occasions the hunters who threatened him had all died. This time, because she saved her strength to heal, some of them were left alive. If she considered this at all, she thought it a good thing, an act of mercy._

_It did not occur to her that defeated men would want revenge._

_Not until she heard the triumphant shout of the first man who saw her cave did Dione realise she might have made a mistake. In panic, she called to Alani. They tried to run. If they could only escape the immediate area she could lose them: her knowledge of the forest was superior to theirs. They hadn’t gone far when Dione felt something slam into her back and she fell, sprawling inelegantly on the ground. "Alani, run!" she cried, trying to scramble up._

_A rough hand grasped her arm and dragged her around. Dione stared into the face of the hunter she had felled. Too proud to scream, to show fear for herself, she lifted her chin defiantly. With a snarl he slapped her, hard. The sudden pain was followed by a wave of nausea and she collapsed to her knees, dimly aware of another of the hunters passing her in his pursuit of Alani._

_Her captor dragged her, struggling, to her cave. He threw her roughly to the ground and she was still for a moment, catching her breath. Then she got to her feet and faced him._

_"Witch," he rasped. His blow took her by surprise. No slap this time: a punch to her stomach with his whole weight behind it. She doubled over in agony, gasping for air. He grasped her hair and jerked her head up. "Witch," he said again. "Not so smug now, are you?" He brought his face close to hers and she gagged on the smell of his unwashed body, his foul breath. "Well, I’m gonna show you what happens to witches," he promised. "Hold her."_

_Before she realised what was happening, Dione was on her back. Strong hands pinned her arms above her head. In terror she realised what they intended to do to her. She felt the cold steel of a knife at her throat. The hunter drew the blade swiftly down her body, slicing her gown to pieces. She screamed involuntarily. He laughed. The weight of his body above hers prevented her from moving. He leaned forward to kiss her and she writhed, desperately trying to keep her mouth away from his. He grabbed her chin in a vicelike grip and forced her to kiss him. His tongue plunged deeply into her mouth until she thought she would choke. He moved away from her lips, his foul mouth exploring her ear and neck. She felt his hands force her legs apart and he began to toy with her cunt, forcing his fingers inside her._

_She moaned with pain. A moment later that pain was forgotten. A new sound had added to her horror: Alani’s scream. Dione could hear Alani struggling nearby, but couldn’t see. Hardly knowing what she was saying, she begged them to leave Alani alone, please, do as you will with me, but don’t hurt her, just let her be, please, she hasn’t harmed you it’s me you want oh, dark lady, please don’t let them harm her…_

_And the hunter was cramming his cock into her dry passage. A scream of agony was torn from her lips. His rough clothing chaffed her bare skin, his teeth ripped the skin of her shoulders, her neck, her breasts. Each thrust increased her pain…and his enjoyment. Even through her terror and pain, her empathic gift forced her to experience his excitement as well: the rising of his lust, his fierce joy in his possession of her. By the time he was finished with her she was sure it was more than she could bear. He gave her nipple a parting twist as he pulled out of her. She winced. "The witch enjoys it," he said with contempt. "Look at ’er."_

_She could not even imagine what would make him think that._

_Dione, finding herself suddenly free, tried to curl her naked body into a ball around the pain. "You’re not done, witch," a new voice growled. Rough hands on her legs forced them apart, rough hands on her hips dragged her into position, and it all began again. Through it all, Dione heard Alani screaming her name, over and over. Dione tried to hold back her sobs of pain, she **tried**. But it wasn’t possible. This one took longer than the first man. He held her down with his hand around her throat. His pumping cock was a weapon, tearing at her skin, beating her inside as his fists beat her face and body. She was only half conscious when he was done. _

_She was aware of him leaving her, but only just. Then water poured in her face brought her spluttering back to full consciousness. Would it never end, she thought in despair, as she saw the face of a third man looming over her. The sharp point of his sword rested just above her navel._

_"The man you murdered," he said through clenched teeth, "was called Grassus. He was my best friend." Coldly and deliberately he ran her through._

***

Hercules saw it all. Through their mind to mind rapport, he lived that hour with her, felt her terror, her panic, the agony of the rape, her desperate, thwarted need to save the girl she loved. Finally, unable to take it any longer, he broke the contact between them. His own body was aching, as if he had somehow experienced it in more than thought. It had taken only seconds.

Hercules hadn’t felt such rage since Deianeira died. When he found the men who did this, he would… Then he remembered the last thing. Reluctantly, gently, Hercules moved aside the fur that covered Dione’s abdomen. It was soaked through with blood, her blood, a constant seepage from the mortal wound that third man inflicted. "Oh, Dione," he whispered, his voice breaking. She was dying. He knew that now as a certainty. Only her magic had kept her alive this long.

"Alani…" Dione forced the word past her cracked lips.

Even in her pain, she was worried about the girl. Hercules leaned closer to her, his strong arms supporting her, trying to hear what she needed to say. Her voice wouldn’t obey her. Hercules met her eyes again, and suddenly, clearly, he heard her voice in his head.

&lt;&lt;_Alani...my daughter. **Your** daughter, Hercules_&gt;&gt; A series of images followed: Hercules and Dione making love by her forest pool; Dione’s last words to him as they parted, "You leave a part of yourself with me…"; Dione with a baby in her arms; the child as a toddler, playing with a rabbit outside the cave; the child’s face screwed up with tears when she fell down in the grass; Alani aged five, laughing as she and her mother played together in the pool; Alani aged eight, her young face serious as she concentrated on learning to weave a basket out of dried grass; Dione watching the twelve-year old Alani with the Chimera; mother and daughter smiling together in the moonlight.   
&lt;&lt;_Your daughter._&gt;&gt;

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he blurted out. The words were totally inadequate, but nothing he said could have summed up his feelings. He had never thought, never once considered… A daughter? All these years…how had he never known? Gods, all the things he had missed. And Dione? How had she even considered giving birth alone, without help? She might have died! "I can’t believe you did all this alone. Why didn’t you send for me?"

&lt;&lt;_No. This is our way, Hecate’s way&gt;&gt;_ Dione broke the contact as a spasm of pain shook her body. _&lt;&lt;We each live as her Moon lives: in phases. Maiden, mother, crone. The cycle continues, the wheel of life turns. The way of nature&gt;&gt;_

"But you didn’t have to raise a child alone!"

_&lt;&lt;I was never alone. My goddess is with me, always&gt;&gt;_

Hercules felt her body convulse in his arms. He held her tenderly until the pain began to fade.

Dione forced the words past her pain. "Promise me…find Alani. Save her."

"I promise," Hercules answered. Inside, though, his heart was sinking. If Alani had been taken by those men, it seemed likely she would be dead by now.

_&lt;&lt;I would know if she were dead. Hercules, she is alone. And very afraid. Help her&gt;&gt;_

"I will. I promise. If she’s alive, I will find her."

_&lt;&lt;My love&gt;&gt;_

Hercules couldn’t speak. Tears filled his eyes, an overflowing of grief for this brave and selfless woman. The back of his hand brushed her cheek and she closed her eyes, turning her head toward his touch. And in that moment, Hercules became aware of another presence in the cave.

Hecate, dark goddess of the underworld, appeared before them both. Hercules had never seen her before, but it was impossible to mistake her presence. She looked like a witch out of a children’s story, her black robes dusty and ragged, white hair hanging in matted locks around her ravaged face. Hecate had an aura of dark power that not even Hades could rival. In the instant he perceived her presence, Hercules understood – on an emotional level – why Zeus forbade the invocation of her name. Hecate had three faces, like the moon, but she appeared in that moment with her third. She was the Crone of Wisdom, the Ancient One, the Hag of Death. No man, mortal or otherwise, could look upon that face without fear, and Hercules was no exception.

Yet he also recognised the significance of her presence: she had come, as he had seen Celesta come for others, to guide her worshipper into the next world.

Hercules’ eyes returned to Dione’s face. She, too, had seen her goddess there. A smile touched her lips, a look of peace settled on her features.

"No," Hercules said suddenly, desperate to deny what he knew. He turned to the goddess, holding Dione protectively. "Please. There has to be another way."

Hecate’s silver eyes held compassion, but no mercy. "She is suffering," the dark goddess said. "It is time."

"You’re a goddess! Can’t you heal her?"

"My daughter chose to exchange her healing for the power to call you here. I will not gainsay her choice, son of Zeus. There is nothing more I can do for her."

His voice refused to obey him. He tried to blink back tears and failed. With all the tenderness he knew, Hercules brushed Dione’s hair out of her face. She smiled, meeting his eyes for the last time. He bent his head and kissed her lips.

&lt;&lt;_My love_&gt;&gt;

***

Hercules carefully placed Dione’s silver pendant on top of the cairn that marked her grave. To the west, the sun was setting, turning the sky blood-red. There would be no moon tonight. The dark moon meant death. How appropriate. Hercules remained standing by the grave, remembering her. The way her smile transformed her face from mere prettiness to breathtaking beauty. Her kind and generous spirit. The sweet taste of her when they kissed. And the terrible, agonising way she had met her end. Dione probably hadn’t intended it, but she had made certain Hercules could never forget that last. The faces of the three men who raped and killed her were branded into his memory as they had been in hers.

"You have a more important task than to mourn, son of Zeus."

He knew it would be Hecate and he spoke without turning to look at her. "I know. I’ve been waiting for you." A brief flash of light caught his eye as Dione’s pendant disappeared from the cairn.

"The pendant," Hecate told him, "belongs to Alani now. Until you find her…" A second flash of silver and the pendant re-appeared – around Hercules’ neck.

Startled, he touched it, turning to face the goddess. "My father will love this," he said. When he saw her he was surprised again. Hecate had chosen to appear this time in her Maiden form: that of a beautiful young woman. There was a seriousness about her expression, though, that reminded him perhaps too much of her earlier appearance.

Hecate pursed her lips as she looked at him. "I am not unaware of irony, son of Zeus." Then she shrugged, abruptly dropping her formal mode of speech. "You don’t have to wear it. But as long as you do you may call on me for aid. You may not know it, but for one night you were my priest."

Hecate’s knowing smile made him uncomfortable. "I…became aware of it," Hercules admitted carefully. "That’s why I’ve never spoken of the time I spent here."

The goddess moved closer to him, meeting his steady gaze with her silver eyes. "For shame?" she teased. It was almost flirtatious.

"No. For discretion," he corrected, firmly. "Since I live – in part – under my father’s protection, I should at least seem to obey his rules. So," Hercules lifted the silver disk in his hand, "I’ll wear this, Hecate, but I won’t call on you."

She seemed pleased. "That is your choice," she allowed. Hercules had the feeling he had just been tested, somehow. Hecate beckoned to him as she moved away. "Come, there’s not much time. You must be out of the forest before dark."

"Then the stories I heard…"

Hecate turned on him, eyes flashing. "My Chimera is no threat to anyone – as long as there’s a guardian in Calydon. But Dione is dead and her successor taken from here. That is your task."

The separate pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place in his mind; the resulting picture was not a pretty one. "Hecate…if that creature turns wild, it could kill hundreds. I’ll have to…"

"No!" she snapped. Then, more quietly, "You could kill it, Hercules. Of course you could. But Alani can control it. Your task is to find her. You might kill the Chimera, Hercules. But in that act, should you attempt it, you will lose your own life."

"And how many lives will be lost while I look for her? I don’t even know where to begin!"

"Here." Hecate waved her hand and a vision appeared before his eyes.

***

Alani sat with her back against the wide trunk of a tree, her head bowed. Her arms were stretched out behind her and tied behind the tree, leaving her helpless. A dirty hand grabbed her hair and lifted her head up: Alani’s lip was cut and swollen, and there was a purple bruise on her cheekbone, just below the eye. Her captor put a cup of water to her mouth and held it while she drank: some of the water spilled out the sides of her mouth, but she managed to swallow most of it. She stared up at her captor with sullen hatred in her clear blue eyes.

The man let go of her hair and crouched beside her. "How ’bout thankin’ me properly, then, girl?" He began to undo his belt. Alani tried to ignore him, her face impassive. The man ran a hand up her leg, grinning as she flinched away from him. He fondled her breast through her torn clothing, reaching into his trousers and playing with his stiffening cock with his other hand. "So. ’Ave you got something for me?" he leered. There could be no doubt what he had in mind.

Alani closed her eyes, enduring his lewd touch and putting it out of her mind. She focussed on visualising a circle of blue-white fire surrounding her body. When the circle was firmly fixed in her mind’s eye, she expanded it, creating a sphere, cutting herself off completely from the rest of the world. At the apex of the sphere she drew a five-pointed star. She had to guess which direction was north, but managed to visualise the correct symbols at each quarter. As she placed the last one in the west, she felt the man’s filthy hand, which had been about to slide inside her waistband, draw away.

The man’s erection began to droop. "Ah, you’re not worth it," he muttered, tightening his belt and walking away. He failed to see Alani’s faint smile of triumph.

"Leave her alone, Lycus," one of the other men called. "Krassis will give us a better price if she’s virgin."

"Yeah." The third man grunted his agreement. "We’d better get   
_something_ worthwhile out of this trip," he grumbled.

***

"Krassis," Hercules repeated grimly. Now he knew where to look for them. Krassis was a worthless weasel of a man, a slave trader he had crossed paths with before. Hercules was horrified by the scene he had just witnessed. A rage worthy of Ares was beginning to build in his blood: had the object of his anger been nearby in that moment, he would have committed murder.

And then he heard Hecate’s voice, "Anger will not serve you in this, son of Zeus."

There was a fist-sized rock next to his foot. Hercules picked it up, turned it over a few times in his hands, then crushed it very slowly in his fist. By the time he’d reduced the rock to sand, he’d taken the edge off his anger. Only the edge. The images stayed with him. That filthy swine abusing Dione’s child…his child…that really hadn’t sunk in yet. Then he realised what she had done. Watching the scene through Hecate’s scrying, Hercules had seen, though not fully understood, her circle of protection. Now he began to understand what he’d seen.

"By the gods, she has some power," he muttered.

"Would you expect less?" Hecate gave him a very direct look as Hercules spun to face her. He had almost forgotten she was there. "She comes from a line of my priestesses unbroken for thirty generations. And her father – "

"…Is the son of a god," Hercules finished for her. Naturally, Hecate would exploit that. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making a mistake involving himself with Hera’s sister: there were some disturbing similarities between the two goddesses.

_Come on, Herc, **focus**_, he reminded himself firmly. He had a job to do. Whatever he might say, whatever he might want to believe, he knew he would use whatever resources he had to do it. There was no way he could allow another child of his to die. As the decision firmed in his mind, he saw the brief flash of silver that accompanied Hecate’s disappearance.

Involuntarily, his hand went to the medallion around his neck. It was cool to the touch, despite being against his skin. For a moment he considered removing it. Then, for no good reason, he changed his mind.

Turning his back on the gravesite, Hercules began the long walk that would take him out of the forest. First, he had to find Iolaus. Then the two of them would find Alani.

He only prayed she would remain unharmed until they did.


	3. Chimera

"I’ll try to be back before dark," Hercules had said. He had made it – just. The demi-god’s absence had given Iolaus the opportunity to enjoy the afternoon, relaxing in a well-kept tavern with several tankards of good ale (_And good company_, he reminded himself, remembering the lass who had served him most of those tankards. She had made it clear that if he planned to stay he was unlikely to sleep alone). He should have known then that the fun would soon be over: they _never_ got to take a break.

As soon as Hercules returned Iolaus had known there was trouble. There were no smiles, no jokes from his demi-god friend, just a grim silence that – to Iolaus – felt distressingly familiar. He remembered Herc’s flippant comment about Hera and Ares and wondered which of them _had_ been waiting for him. For the first hour, Hercules wouldn’t even talk about it: he said he needed time to think and refused to elaborate beyond that. Nothing was more likely to worry Iolaus. When Herc shut him out it was usually serious. Eventually, the two men sat outside the tavern, their only light coming from the window behind them, and Hercules told Iolaus everything.

"Are you sure about this, Herc?" Iolaus asked hesitantly. Gods, he could almost wish he had let Hercules leave him behind: this was a little too much to take in all at once. First Hercules would rather visit an old girlfriend than help stop a monster that had already killed seven people. Then he showed up wearing an amulet of Hecate – and whatever Hercules said about Hera’s sister, that pendant made Iolaus uneasy – and now this. Iolaus just wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

"I mean," he continued, "it’s not all that long since Nemesis – "

" – Lied to me about Evander, I know." Hercules gave Iolaus a very direct look. "Two things. First, Dione didn’t tell me. She showed me. Take my word for it: you can’t lie that way. Alani is my daughter. Second: that’s not the issue here. Get this through your head. An innocent woman was raped and murdered. The bastards who did it forced a fourteen-year-old girl to watch, then they took her with them. They plan to sell her into slavery. _I_ plan to stop them. Now, if you have a problem with that..."

Iolaus was shaking his head vigorously. "Gods, no. No problem with that at all." He had never heard Herc sound so angry. "But...oh, gods...you’re going to hate me for saying this..."

"Spit it out."

"Well...Alani isn’t the only one who needs your help right now, Herc. What about these people? _They_ didn’t send those hunters. They didn’t hurt anyone. But they’re the ones suffering for it."

Hercules was mildly surprised by Iolaus’ words: he hadn’t thought his friend had made the connection. He nodded sadly. "I know. That’s the only reason we’re still here. If the creature we’ve been hearing about is Hecate’s Chimera...there is nothing I can do. Alani is the only one who can stop it. If it’s not, we can take care of it first."

Iolaus could hardly believe what he’d just heard. "Nothing you can do? It’ll take us – what? – at least two days to find this girl. How many more people will die in the meantime?"

They were almost exactly the same words he had thrown at Hecate. Knowing Iolaus was right was not making this any easier for Hercules. But right at that moment they were interrupted.

The scream of a man in pain.

Neither man hesitated: both leapt up, their argument forgotten. They ran toward the sound. There was a burning torch lying in the road. By its light, they could see very little, just vague shapes. The sounds told the story. After that first scream, there was no sound from the man. They could both hear the snuffling sounds of a very large animal nearby.

Iolaus, always reckless, darted in and picked up the torch. Lifting it off the ground raised the light level, and suddenly the size of the creature became clear. Hercules caught the gleam of white tusks.

"What in Hades...?" Iolaus gasped.

Hercules already knew. "Damn you, Hecate! I can’t just stand by and watch your pet kill."

Hercules hadn’t realised he’d spoken aloud. But Iolaus heard him. The hunter caught sight of his friend’s expression and drew his sword, ready to do battle.

"No, Iolaus!" Hercules pulled him back. "I have to do this alone. Promise me, if this doesn’t work, you’ll take this," – tapping the pendant on his chest – "and find my daughter."

Iolaus just stared at him for a moment, as if he hadn’t understood. "What are you talking about, Herc? You’ve killed bigger monsters than this!"

"I _can’t_ kill it. Look, I’ve got an idea, but it might not work. Promise me!" There just wasn’t _time_ to discuss it.

Iolaus knew that. More scared than he wanted to admit by Hercules’ suggestion he might not survive this battle, Iolaus reluctantly gave his promise. He watched as Hercules walked into the road to confront the creature. There was just enough light coming from the torch for Hercules to be able to see the man lying in the road. The Chimera stood over him, about to spear him on those sharp tusks. Hercules wrenched the creature’s head away from its victim. Then he backed off a little way, hoping the creature would follow him. It seemed to work. Once, the Chimera looked back to the fallen man, then with a growl it turned and charged Hercules.

The instant the creature moved, Iolaus went to help the man. He was unconscious, and bleeding from a wound in his side, but he was alive. Iolaus carried the man out of the road, away from the battle.

"That’s it. Well done! Bring him inside."

Iolaus hadn’t been aware of having an audience until the woman spoke. Grateful for her aid, Iolaus did as she said, helping her to carry the wounded man into the tavern. He waited long enough to see that she knew how to treat the wound, then hurried out to rejoin Hercules. By then there were several people outside, summoned by the commotion, watching what little could be seen of Hercules’ battle.

At least Herc was still alive. To Iolaus’ eyes, he didn’t seem to be doing so well, though. Iolaus had seen Hercules battle any number of monsters, and this looked different. He saw Hercules roll out of the way of another attack and stand to await the next. Then he realised. Hercules was not even _trying_ to hurt it. He was just keeping the creature’s attention, trying to tire it. It was a risky strategy. Hercules could have no way of knowing how long the Chimera could keep up this kind of pace. Herc could surely match it for strength, but what about stamina? There was no way to guess which of them would tire first. And if it was Hercules...

It seemed to take forever.

Hercules and the Chimera faced each other again, as they had done each time. Hercules was braced for the next charge, but it didn’t come. He waited, catching his breath, his eyes never leaving the creature. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. Was the Chimera as tired as he? It was impossible to be sure, but Hercules had to take the risk. Dione had always spoken of the creature as if it was intelligent. If it was – gods, that was the question – it had to realise that Hercules could have killed it by now. If it knew that, this might work.

Slowly, Hercules walked toward the creature. He extended his hands, palms up, a gesture of peace. Slowly, slowly. The Chimera hadn’t moved. The sharp, musky smell of the creature assailed him as he got close to it. Closer... Swallowing his fear – any animal would sense that – Hercules reached out and touched the Chimera, placing his palm flat between its eyes, exactly as Dione had guided him to do all those years ago.

He almost cried out at the sudden shock of pain.

Hercules bit back his involuntary cry and controlled the impulse to jerk his hand away. Suddenly he understood. The Chimera still hadn’t moved. It was watching him, wary, tense, but no longer angry, no longer on the attack. Hercules sank to his knees in front of the creature, reaching out with his other hand. This was easier, he was expecting the wave of pain this time. But the pain he felt was not an attack, and it was the agony of the creature’s spirit, communicated through the touch.

"She understands," Hercules told the creature, his voice low and soothing. "She understands. You were hurt. You didn’t fail. There was nothing you could do." He brought his hand down to the creature’s snout, risking those deadly tusks. He wanted the creature to know his scent. "Do you remember me? Do you? I’m a friend, remember?" He felt the Chimera’s breath on his skin. "She wouldn’t want you to do this. Dione always thought of others before herself. What you’re doing can’t bring her back."

The Chimera shook its head and snorted.

Hercules stayed exactly where he was. "I know," he said, still in that soothing monotone. "I’m going to find her. But..." _– gods, let this work –_ "...I cannot help Alani if you keep doing this." He could feel the creature shaking beneath his hands. "I know what you’re feeling. But these people aren’t the ones responsible. I can’t let you kill them. Please. Go home. Then I can follow Alani. It’s your choice. Yours."

For a tense moment there was silence. Hercules held his breath. Then he felt the Chimera relax. The creature almost seemed to shrink beneath his hands: it looked no different, but it felt smaller. With a final shake of its head the Chimera pulled away from Hercules, and trotted off in the direction of Calydon wood.

On the very edge of his vision, Hercules saw a brief sparkle of silver light. He turned toward it, but the flash had already faded.

***

"Exactly what do you think you’re doing? I’ve told you before to leave my son alone."

Hecate kept her eyes on the battle before her. She had no need to turn around to identify the speaker. "Have you?" she answered indifferently. "My humble apology, great king, I must not have been listening." Her tone had become heavy with sarcasm. "Begone, old man, and leave me to my own way."

"Not when you involve my son," he said firmly.

Hecate’s silver eyes flashed with anger. "Then I will leave." With a shimmer of silver light she vanished. She re-materialised in the darkened cavern that was her natural home. Her eyes flashed silver in the darkness and the cave was filled with a pearly light. A hidden corner of the underworld, Hecate’s cavern was vast. In the centre of its uneven floor was a well full of water. She waved her hand over the water, a well-practised gesture, and the vision she wanted appeared on the surface. She saw Hercules talking to her Chimera and smiled to herself, pleased. The son of Zeus was more clever than she had thought. Even when she became aware of the other presence in her cavern she did not turn away from her pool.

"You like to have them in your debt, don’t you?" Zeus said, moving closer, watching the vision over her shoulder. "Have you considered, Hecate, that if Hercules completes your task without calling on you for help, _you_ will be the one who owes _him_?"

"It will be the first time in four hundred years. And perhaps a risk worth taking." Hecate ended the vision with a snap of her fingers, turned around and regarded the king of the gods thoughtfully. "You fear that outcome, do you not? I have the power to grant what you denied. Where would his respect for you be then?"

"That’s something that died years ago." The old god’s voice was quiet.

"You never understood what the goddesses know. Their mortality is a gift, not a failing. In your determination to protect your son’s immortality, you – "

"Enough!"

Hecate’s smile was one of victory. "The truth hurts, of course. Give Hera my regards." It was a dismissal.

***

"One hundred dinars."

The hunter laughed: a sound that held no merriment at all. "Krassis! I thought you were a serious businessman."

"I am. One hundred dinars." The man called Krassis slowly walked around the girl, sharp eyes noting every detail: her torn tunic, her matted hair, her tear-streaked face slightly bruised. "She doesn’t look worth a hundred. I’m being generous."

"You’re joking," the hunter insisted. "She’s worth a thousand. All she needs is a bath and a few days rest. Come on, Krassis. She’s undamaged goods."

The slaver’s eyebrows rose at that. "_Entirely_ undamaged?"

"Guaranteed."

Krassis lifted Alani’s chin and looked into her eyes. She returned his stare with a look of defiance. He turned her head to one side, then the other. He made her open her mouth and took a look at her teeth. Releasing her, he half turned as if to walk away. With a sudden movement, he spun round, lashing out with one hand, which caught her on the side of her head, throwing her to the ground.

Alani hit the ground in a dazed heap, rolled and pushed herself up to her knees, shaking her head to clear it. Above her head she heard, "Two hundred dinars. She will have to be trained."

"You jest. Three hundred."

"Two hundred and twenty. My final offer. Unless you can supply ownership papers?"

The hunter grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and Alani felt herself dragged roughly to her feet. Krassis gestured to someone behind her and she felt a firm hand on her arm.

"Clean her up. Prepare her. I’ll send for her tonight."

***

"This is it," Hercules announced. "The place Hecate showed me." He was more than a little relieved. Hercules had known that to catch up with Alani’s abductors they would have to risk taking a different route: their only advantage was knowing the hunters’ destination. Taking a short cut, however, meant they couldn’t be certain they were on the right track. Finding the campsite meant Hercules had made the right decision.

"Are you sure, Herc?"

"You’re the hunter. You tell me." It hardly required a woodsman’s skills to know that this clearing had been a campsite recently: trampled earth and the ashes of a campfire told their own story. Yes, he was sure.

Hercules watched as Iolaus rose to his challenge, casting an experienced eye over the ground. "Three of them," he said eventually. "And a prisoner. Alani?"

Hercules nodded.

There were scratches on the bark of the tree where Alani had been tied. Iolaus walked over to the tree, careful not to disturb the tracks he was looking for. He bent down and picked something up, commenting, "One of them has a bow."

It was an "old hunters’ trick" that Hercules greatly admired. He was observant enough himself: he could read a trail in a forest with reasonable accuracy. But Iolaus could tell you how many horses there were in single-file tracks, and no matter how many times Iolaus explained what he was seeing, Hercules had never been able to pick up the trick.

"If it makes you feel any better," Iolaus said eventually, "I can’t see any signs of a fight. Or..."

_Or rape._ Hercules heard the unspoken word. "Which way?" he asked.

Iolaus pointed. "Tracks of four. So she’s walking, or she was when they left here. She’s OK, Herc."

Hercules remembered the scene Hecate had made him witness and wished he could share Iolaus’ confidence. That filthy swine playing with his daughter’s body...there was more than one form of rape. "Let’s go," Hercules urged grimly.

***

Alani had no volition, no control over anything that happened to her. There seemed little point in trying to resist: she was miles away from Calydon, and that forest was the only world she knew. This world was alien, its people monsters. The deepest pit of Tartarus would have been a welcome alternative.

She had allowed Krassis’ people to bathe her body, to clean and dress her cuts and bruises. They seemed to have as little will as she: blank-faced women who moved her aching limbs with gentle hands but said no words, made no sound. Alani, too, had been silent. No one had even asked her name. They had taken her torn, filthy tunic (her last link to home) and dressed her as Krassis desired. The gown they gave her was pale blue, a floating, translucent material that covered her breasts – just – but left her midriff exposed. The lower half of her body was covered, but hardly concealed. Alani had never learned modesty or shame: she was raised in a world without contact with men and such concepts had been irrelevant. Even so, she was quick to recognise the purpose of the way she had been dressed, and her introduction to male sexuality had been a violent one. She was afraid.

The dress was just the beginning. Her hair had been washed and perfumed (beneath the grime it was a rich shade of brown, with sun-bleached highlights and a tendency to curl), and styled into a braided coil on top of her head. Another woman painted her face: adding colour to her eyes and lips. Then she was left alone.

Alani prayed silently and desperately to her goddess for deliverance. She felt no response. The act of praying had calmed her, a little. Closing her eyes she began to visualise her circle of protection. It had worked for her on the journey, perhaps it would work for her now. The circle built up slowly. Twice the sounds around her disturbed Alani’s concentration and she had to begin again. Finally, she placed the last of the seals around her blue-white sphere and began to relax. With the circle in place, it didn’t take as much concentration to maintain it.

When the woman came for her she was ready, she thought, to face anything. Alani followed the woman from the small tent to a larger pavilion. When she realised it was night, she searched the sky for the moon: Hecate’s moon. All she could see were stars: the night sky was cold. No moon. No comfort. Alani felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them back. Had Hecate abandoned her?

Krassis’ pavilion was the largest tent in the camp. It was lit from within by torchlight and candles. Inside, there was some smoke, mingled with the unfamiliar scents of perfumes, wine and cooked food. The walls were hung with silks in rich colours: reds and blues and purples. The ground was strewn with cushions, where two men reclined, a tray of food between them. One of the men was Krassis, the other a stranger. There were others in the pavilion: women, dressed much as Alani was. They moved slowly, unsmiling, as commanded.

Krassis got to his feet as Alani entered. A wide grin appeared on his bearded face. "How d’you like my latest acquisition, then?" he asked the other man. His voice was loud, jolly. He was slightly drunk. Krassis approached Alani, grasping her by the shoulders. "Scrubs up nicely, doesn’t she?" He ran his big hands over her body, squeezing one of her tits in passing. "You’ll do," he decided.

Alani endured his touch without flinching, but inside she was trembling. What if he...?

Krassis laughed coarsely. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her, returning to his guest.

Alani almost wept with relief. One of the other women handed her a jug of wine, directing her to stand near the two men, refilling their cups as needed. It was a simple enough task and Alani was able to concentrate on maintaining her visualised circle. It made her, not literally invisible, but unlikely to be noticed. She listened, not really understanding, to the conversation of the men: they talked of people and places and plans.

Time passed slowly. Every time one of the men looked at her, she was afraid. Every laugh, every movement seemed to be directed at her. Then Krassis called for someone else. Suddenly the atmosphere in the pavilion changed. Alani, sensitive to the emotions of those around her, sensed some apprehension from the other women, while Krassis and his companion seemed...eager, somehow.

Someone new entered the pavilion: a woman, or rather, a girl: she did not seem much older than Alani. She wore red, with her hair loose about her shoulders and a great deal of jewellery: at her wrists and ankles, a band about her head, a collar at her neck and more. Nestled among the jewels were tiny bells...their purpose became clear when the girl began to dance.

She began slowly, with graceful, sinuous movements about the pavilion. There was no music: the dancer created her own rhythm with the bells she wore. Her movements gradually became faster, more abandoned, the soft folds of her gown flared outward as she spun, revealing more and more of her body. Alani could almost have enjoyed watching, but all too soon she became aware of the effect the dance was having on the men.

_...dragged screaming by her hair into the cave...no, please...what do they want with us?...Dione’s voice, begging, pleading..."Do as you will, but don’t harm her"...the malicious smile of the man holding Dione down...and the other, lying on top of her, hurting her...his emotion, so strong Alani couldn’t block it out...his lust..._

Krassis signalled to one of the women and she moved forward with obvious reluctance. Not needing to be told what he wanted, she knelt between his legs and lifted aside his clothing. No one else in the pavilion seemed to notice; the dancer kept dancing without even a pause. Alani caught a brief glimpse of the man’s engorged penis before the woman bent over him, taking his member into her mouth. Krassis’ eyes never left the dancer. It was as if he barely noticed the woman’s actions.

_...Dione’s agonised scream as the hunter forced himself into her...Alani struggled to get to her, but was held back...forced to watch the hunter thrusting away...his grunt of satisfaction as he spilt his seed..."The witch enjoys it"..."You’re not done"...Couldn’t they see they were **hurting** her?... "Dione! Dione!" screamed over and over until her throat was raw...the second man beat and choked Dione as he raped her...her screams became sobs...and oh, goddess, the agony..._

Alani’s terror was overwhelming. All she could think about was Dione, as she had last seen her, broken and bleeding on the floor of their cave. And the feelings that had made her that way: the lust of men. Just like the men before her now.

The circle of protection Alani had so painstakingly built wavered and disappeared.

Krassis’ desire reached its peak. A moment later, the woman raised her head, re-arranged his clothing and stood as he waved her away.

"You, girl! More wine!" Krassis called.

Alani forced her legs and hands to move, to step forward and refill his cup. As she tilted the jug Krassis grabbed her, spilling the wine and dragging her into his lap. His mouth descended onto hers and she struggled to get out of his embrace. Without success. She smelled the wine on his breath as he forced his tongue between her lips. Involuntarily, she opened her mouth and his tongue snaked in. He pushed up her top, tearing the fragile material, and grabbed one of her breasts. Alani squealed with pain, still struggling.

He let her go with an exuberant laugh. "Virgins! Such a waste of time." Watching Alani with a leer as she straightened her clothing, he waved a hand in dismissal. "Out! All of you."

Stunned, Alani obeyed, following the other women from the pavilion. As the cold night air hit her, panic struck. Alani began to run. She had no idea where she was going, she just ran into the darkness.

Her unplanned move took everyone by surprise, and gave her a few seconds headstart. She swerved to avoid a dark shape ahead and realised it was a tree. The ground beneath her feet began to feel familiar: it was woodland loam. Alani couldn’t afford to be careful, to choose a path. Branches snagged at her hair and her clothes as she ran. Twigs scratched her face and arms. The soft slippers on her feet were little protection but she when she lost one she felt the pain of the rough ground on her feet. She ran. Her chest felt heavy, her lungs ready to burst. She ran.

A fallen branch, unseen in the darkness, tripped her and she fell headlong, the breath forced from her body with the impact. She heard the cry of an owl overhead. Alani tried to get up, but her body wouldn’t co-operate. She was too tired, she had run too far. She crawled instead, finding refuge beneath a bank of thorns. She lay there, her panting breath too loud, waiting. Minutes passed and she began to believe she was safe. She lay her head on her arms and allowed herself to relax. Her eyes closed.

Suddenly she was surrounded by flaming light. Rough hands dragged her to her feet. A face close to hers shouted incoherently. Someone’s fist slammed into her stomach and she doubled over in pain. A boot struck her thigh. A hand grabbed her hair – it had escaped its braid – and pulled her painfully up. Someone slapped her. A fist in her side. Alani fell again. Instinctively, she curled into a ball, her arms and hands protecting her head. The blows rained down.

After an eternity, Alani was forced to stand again, her arms held firmly by two men. If not for their rough support, she would have fallen. They half-carried, half-dragged her as they returned to the camp.

Taking her back to Krassis. Returning her to slavery. And her punishment.


	4. Krassis

They had never really expected it to be easy. Most of Krassis’ guards knew Hercules from a previous encounter and fight had been inevitable from the moment they entered the camp. They didn’t have to search for Krassis: his pavilion was easily the largest of the many tents. One guard tried to stop Hercules entering the tent, claiming Krassis couldn’t be disturbed. Hercules did try to be polite: he had no quarrel with the guard. But when the guard "insisted" he stand aside, and the other guards surrounded them with weapons drawn, Hercules decided to be a little more direct.

One man found himself flying, and crash-landed against a tent pole, the tent collapsing around him with a clattering sound. The clashing of swords, shouts and an occasional warcry filled the air. No one would miss the noise, that was certain.

The noise attracted the attention of the man they had come to see. A very angry-looking Krassis emerged from the pavilion, loudly demanding to know what was happening. "…I thought I’d made it clear…" he bellowed, then caught sight of the cause of the ruckus. "Hercules!"

"Call off your dogs, Krassis." Hercules blocked another blow with his fist as he turned to face the slave trader. "I’m here on business."

Krassis raised an eyebrow. "Really?" A single gesture, and those guards who were left stopped fighting and put their weapons away. "Your business?" Krassis continued smoothly. "Or mine?"

Hercules refused to rise to the bait. "Yours," he said flatly.

Krassis hid his surprise beneath a professional, false smile. "And it can’t wait until a more…appropriate hour?"

Iolaus sheathed his sword with a steely rasp, moving to Hercules’ side. "Well, that depends, Krassis. How many of your guards do you want to have left when you’re ready to talk to us?"

Krassis looked at Iolaus warily. He walked back into his pavilion, gesturing for them to follow. One of his guards brought up the rear.

"That was too easy," Iolaus commented, keeping his voice low so only Hercules would hear. "There should have been more guards than that."

"I noticed."

Inside the pavilion, Krassis poured himself a cup of wine. Hercules noticed that his hands were unsteady as he lifted the jug and wondered if it was from too much wine or from nerves. The man didn’t sound drunk… Krassis made no move to offer that hospitality to either of his uninvited guests: a gesture meant to let them know they were unwelcome. The guard who had followed them into the pavilion moved to Krassis’ side, his weapons very much in evidence. He was obviously some sort of bodyguard.

"So…Hercules. What business could you possibly have with me?" Krassis asked with phoney geniality. "I know you don’t deal in slaves."

Hercules had gone over and over in his mind what might happen during this meeting, but he hadn’t reached any conclusions about the best way to proceed. He wasn’t certain whether Krassis would know what he wanted before they began. Krassis’ question, seemingly direct, gave him no clue. So he decided to come straight to the point. "Three men came to you, either yesterday or today, with a girl. Did you buy her?"

Krassis showed no surprise. "Did I buy a girl? Hercules, I’m a slave trader. There are so many…"

"Don’t play dumb with me. The girl I’m talking about is called Alani. She’s about fourteen, but tall for her age. Brown curly hair, blue eyes. Either you bought her or you didn’t, Krassis. Which is it?"

The guard at Krassis’ side spoke quietly to the trader. Krassis frowned when he heard what the guard had to say, then turned back to Hercules.

"Your guard obviously knows who we’re talking about," Iolaus commented. Hercules had guessed the same thing.

At that moment there was a commotion at the entrance of the pavilion. Several voices were heard, then two men came in, dragging a girl between them. It was Alani. She was standing, but only because the men who held her were holding her upright. Her thin clothing was torn, her face and arms covered with little scratches, her hair in tangled disarray. She either would not or could not look at anyone; she kept her head bowed, concealing some of the injuries to her face.

Hercules recognised her at once, and could see she had been badly beaten. The men who held Alani threw her to the ground in front of Krassis. Instantly, Hercules was at her side. His initial anger at the sight of her was overridden by concern for the girl. As gently as he could, he helped Alani to her feet, leading her to a softly cushioned chair. He glanced at Krassis once, his dark look daring the man to try and stop him.

All the while, the guard who had brought Alani into the pavilion was talking, giving Krassis a brief report of their search for the girl and asking what he wanted to do with her now. "We’ll put her on the table and let the men teach her to know a slave’s place, shall we?" the guard suggested eagerly. "She’ll be a sweet piece of ass."

Hercules shot an angry look at the guard, but controlled his rage. He turned his attention back to Alani. Satisfied that she wasn’t seriously harmed, Hercules lifted Dione’s pendant from where it rested on his chest and showed it to Alani. "Do you recognise this?" he asked her quickly.

Alani looked at the pendant. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. Eventually she just nodded.

"Dione sent me to find you," Hercules told her. "Don’t say anything else. Let me deal with this."

Alani nodded again, seeming to understand.

Staying protectively close to her, Hercules turned back to Krassis. "I should take this out of your cowardly hide," he said through clenched teeth. The two guards were gone.

Krassis spread his hands in an ambiguous gesture. "Then I assume," he said, "this is the girl you’re interested in."

Hercules bit back what he wanted to say and made himself nod. "Yes," he agreed.

Krassis cast a bored glance at Alani. "Well, let’s see… I paid three hundred dinars for her. Since you and I have such a _good_ working relationship… four hundred."

"You’re not serious!" Iolaus burst out. Didn’t Krassis realise he was taking his life in his hands?

Krassis ignored Iolaus, meeting Hercules’ narrow gaze levelly. "I am a businessman. And you said you wanted to talk business," he declared. He looked at Alani, who was curled up in her chair, trying to make herself invisible. His eyes moved over her young body with obvious lechery. "Since you _want_ the girl so much…" he said, "who am I to deny you your _desire_? But I expect to make a reasonable profit." The insinuation was plain.

Krassis had gone too far. Hercules crossed the space between them in three paces. He grabbed the front of the slaver’s embroidered robe and lifted him off the ground. The man’s fear loosened his tongue and he started to babble, telling Hercules not to overreact…just my little joke…all friends here…

"Shut up," Hercules snapped. Krassis shut up.

"Thank you," Hercules said. "Now, listen. I’m prepared to believe that when you bought Alani you didn’t know she’s a free woman. Right now, _Krassis_," – the name was spoken with utter contempt – "that’s the only reason you’re still alive." Krassis’ feet were dangling about a foot above the floor, and he suddenly seemed to be having a little trouble breathing. Hercules was not finished. "Don’t mistake this for a negotiation, Krassis," he warned. "Alani is coming with me. You can co-operate. Or we’ll do this the other way." Slowly, he lowered the struggling man to the ground.

Krassis straightened his clothing and looked up at Hercules. "You can’t do this," he told him. His voice had slid up about an octave. "I run a legitimate business here. I have rights…"

When Hercules moved toward Krassis, Iolaus had quickly taken care of his single guard. The guard now lay face down on the ground, with Iolaus’ sword resting against his spine, and Iolaus’ boot in the small of his back. Hearing Krassis’ weak protestations, Iolaus choked back a snort of laughter. Hercules wouldn’t be intimidated by those sorts of threats.

"Rights!" Hercules repeated. He was still standing over the man. "Krassis, there isn’t a court in Greece that will let you keep her. I don’t care if you paid a million dinars. It wasn’t a legal sale." He shook his head, grudgingly impressed by the man’s audacity. "It’ll be easier if you let me take her, believe me. Make me take this to court and you’ll lose everything. I’ll make sure of it."

"You’re bluffing!" Krassis didn’t sound too confident, though.

"How sure are you?" Hercules challenged. "Bet your life? Because that’s exactly what will be on the line in a Corinthian court."

Iolaus looked at Hercules, surprised, then gave Krassis a wicked grin. "You know, I hadn’t thought of that, Herc. She’s related to the king. Maybe we _should_ take this to him."

Hercules watched the blood drain from Krassis’ face. "Do you still think I’m bluffing, Krassis? Better find out exactly who she is, hadn’t you? Of course, if you had bought her legally, you’d already know."

The threat hung there between them, like a harpy about to strike. Iolaus counted six full seconds before Krassis caved.

***

Outside the pavilion, hidden from sight within the folds of material that made up the tent walls, a man waited. Every word of their conversation was clearly audible to him; the pavilion walls could keep out others’ eyes, but sounds carried too easily. He had joined the guards who chased and beat the slave-girl. He had followed them back to the pavilion, intending to claim the same reward Krassis would surely offer the other men. The presence of Hercules changed his plans.

Unlike Krassis, this man heard and understood Hercules’ words to the girl: _"Dione sent me to find you."_ No words could encompass the fear that overwhelmed him in the moment he heard those words. And then he heard Iolaus say, "She’s related to the king of Corinth." He knew who that king was. It was all he could do to stay silent, concealing his presence until they left the pavilion. Hercules, Iolaus and – although she didn’t speak at all – the slave girl was with them.

There was going to be trouble. The girl could not be allowed to reach Corinth. She would have to die.

***

They walked for about two miles in silence. Hercules kept an eye on Alani as they walked: she was physically exhausted, weak and although he could see no sign of serious injury, he didn’t know what had happened to her, or if she might have internal injuries. He could tell she was forcing herself beyond endurance. He couldn’t help her, however badly he might want to: the one time he had tried she flinched away from him with a stark flash of fear in her eyes. Knowing – at least in part – what she had been through, Hercules didn’t try again.

Until he saw her stumble. There was a loose stone in the road that she hadn’t seen in the darkness. Hercules caught her as she fell. Her head fell back as he lifted her in his powerful arms and he saw that her eyes were closed. Anxiously, Hercules checked the pulse at her neck, watched her breathing.

"Is she OK?" Iolaus asked him. It was almost the first thing he had said since they left Krassis’ pavilion.

Hercules nodded, his eyes still on Alani. "I think so. She’s just exhausted. We’ll have to make camp soon."

"Yeah. The river’s not far. We can camp there."

"Sounds good." Hercules lifted Alani’s limp form, intending to carry her the rest of the way. Carrying her took little effort, and that worried him. Sure, he was strong enough to take her weight, and a great deal more if he had to, but she seemed to weigh almost nothing. He wondered when she had last eaten.

Alani regained consciousness slowly. She became aware of where she was: held in a man’s powerful arms, being taken goddess-knew where. She kept her eyes shut, hoping, praying he wouldn’t notice she was awake. _Out of the cooking pot, into the coals_ was the phrase that sprang to mind; her relief at being free of Krassis was rather cancelled out by the unknowns of her new situation. With a suppressed shudder of fear, Alani became aware of the controlled strength of the man who held her. By the dark moon herself, he was carrying her as if it was no effort at all! How long had she been unconscious?

Hercules was perfectly aware that Alani was awake. As soon as they reached the river he lay her down, sitting some distance away but where he could still keep an eye on her. Iolaus caught his eye and glanced toward the unmoving girl, concern written all over his face. Hercules shook his head. "Iolaus, could you maybe start a fire? I’ll try to wake her."

Alani opened her eyes almost before he touched her, confirming Hercules’ belief that she had been awake for some time. She sat up, crossing her arms across her chest, watching him nervously.

"Hungry?" Hercules asked her.

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Thirsty," she said, her voice quiet.

"Of course. Here." Hercules handed her the waterbag he carried and she accepted it. As she drank her eyes never left him, yet not once did she meet his eyes. "Alani," he said kindly. "You _are_ safe here. No one will hurt you."

Alani couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge that. She passed the empty waterbag back to him, being careful not to touch his hand as he took it from her. Her eyes were drawn back to the pendant on his chest as he moved away from her. It was Hecate’s sign he wore. But Alani had no idea how he had come by it. She didn’t think Hecate would allow any man to wear her sign falsely…but she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t thought any man would wear it at all. He might have stolen it. Alani didn’t dare to hope he might have come to help her.

He walked to the river and refilled the waterbag, then stopped to speak with the other man. Alani watched them both surreptitiously. She was once again aware of the powerful strength of the man who had spoken to her. It showed in every small movement of his body. The other man was carrying weapons: a sword at his side and a curved dagger shoved through his belt…

…just like the hunters…

_"Dione! Dione!" Alani’s screams had become hoarse cries; her throat was raw, almost bleeding with the strain she had been putting on it. She struggled futilely against the hands that held her. "Dione…" There were tears pouring down her cheeks, but Alani was hardly aware of them. The hunter finally finished and stood up, refastening his belt with one hand. His eyes met Alani’s. She felt herself shoved forward, into the arms of the hunter. His arms tightened around her and she renewed her struggles, irrational with terror, revolted by what she had been forced to watch._

_"None of that, slut," the hunter growled. One meaty fist closed around her throat, his other hand snaked around her waist and he held her firmly, turning her around so that once again, she faced into the cave. Dione’s body lay on the ground. She was naked, her torn gown tangled beneath her, her breasts and neck bruised and bleeding. There was blood on her thighs, too, mingled with the slick semen two men had left there. Now the third man stood over her. Alani squeezed her eyes shut. She could not watch this again. She couldn’t. The man spoke: Alani didn’t hear the words. But she heard Dione’s tortured cry of wordless despair._

_Alani forced herself to look. "NO!!!" she screamed, struggling again against the arms that held her. The hunter had sliced into her stomach with his sword: blood poured from the open wound. Dione lay still, her eyes open, clearly seeing, but unable to act. "Let me go! Alani begged. "Oh, goddess. Dark Lady, please…" _

_The hunter, his bloody sword still in his hand, approached her. He lifted the sword before Alani’s eyes then slowly sheathed it. She shrank away from him, pressing her body against that of the man holding her, realised what she was doing and tried to get away from him, too. She was held fast. The hunter touched her breast with one hand, slowly, as if fascinated by it. Alani cringed at his touch and he grinned, reaching for her legs with his other hand._

_"No…" she moaned, paralysed with fear._

_He pulled her skirt down and she felt the seams rip open. He probed between her thighs with one finger, his face inches away from hers, finding the dark curled hair that covered her womanhood…_

A hand touched her shoulder and she screamed, lashing out desperately with one hand. Her hand found warm flesh and she jerked it back, her eyes suddenly wide open.

"Alani, it’s alright. You’re safe." Hercules repeated the words softly, "You’re safe." Her eyes were wild. She seemed to shrink into herself when she saw him, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging herself tight. "You’re safe," he said again. He realised her movements were an attempt to cover herself and for the first time he took notice of what she was wearing…Krassis’ idea of sexually appealing might have suited Aphrodite, but not this mortal and very frightened child.

_Herc, sometimes you can be stupid_, he berated himself. He thought about how the situation would look from Alani’s point of view and began to understand her fears. Hoping it wouldn’t make things worse, Hercules stripped off his leather shirt, leaving the thin undershirt in place, and offered it to Alani. He draped the garment around her shoulders and drew back quickly when she got the idea. His shirt was way too big for her, but it served the purpose: allowed her to cover her body. She clutched the shirt around her, still saying nothing, still not-quite-watching him.

"You don’t trust me," Hercules said quietly. It wasn’t really a question. He kept talking, hoping she would respond, somehow. "I guess I can’t blame you. I have some idea what you’ve been through, Alani. I wish you could believe I’m trying to help you."

Alani raised her eyes and met his, just for an instant. She mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked her.

More clearly, she repeated what she had said. "You lied."

"What do you think I lied about?" he asked her gently.

"Dione." Alani lifted her chin defiantly. "You said Dione sent you. Dione’s dead."

A brief frown of pain crossed Hercules’ face. He hadn’t expected to hear it stated so baldly. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at Alani again. "I know she’s dead, Alani. Before she died she contacted me and asked me to find you. It’s true."

"Can’t be," Alani said and bowed her head, refusing to look at him.

Hercules cast a despairing glance at Iolaus, not really expecting to find help there.

Iolaus met his eyes and shrugged. "Hercules, maybe you should…"

"Hercules?"

Hercules turned back to Alani seeing life in her eyes for the first time. She had raised her head and was looking at him, her eyes wide, her expression hopeful.

"Is your name Hercules?" she asked. Her voice was shaking.

He nodded slowly. "Yes, I’m Hercules."

She felt the tears of relief sting her eyes and made no attempt to stop them. He had told her the truth! Alani had no idea how Dione had done it, but she knew that if her mother had to contact a man, the only one she would have trusted was Hercules. She looked up at the man and her vision blurred. He had been so kind to her, and she hadn’t trusted him. The tears overflowed and spilled down her face. At last, she was no longer alone.

***

"What did Dione tell you about me?" Hercules asked Alani.

Alani looked up from the piece of meat she had been eating. "She told me you were a good man. And she told me you were my father. Right now, that’s enough."

That was good to hear. Hercules suspected her quiet confidence was still largely feigned, but she did it well. And the constant fear was gone. She might not be comfortable with him, but at least this was a start. He was about to speak when she added, "It’s good to meet you at last. I didn’t think I ever would."

The words brought back a familiar pain. "Alani…until this week, I didn’t even know you existed. If I’d known, I…"

Until now, Alani had been trying to suppress her empathic gift. Able to relax at last, she had begun to use it consciously. Hercules’ feelings were hard to read, but those of his companion were wide open to her senses and the sudden rush of feeling that came from him surprised her. Somehow she had touched on a subject that caused both men some pain. She was not sure what to say. The silence dragged on awkwardly. She knew she was supposed to say something, but not what. In the end, to change the subject, she asked, "How did you find me?"

Hercules exchanged a brief glance with his friend. "Hecate helped. She showed me some of what happened to you. Once I knew you were with Krassis it was easy."

"Hecate?" she repeated, disbelieving. Tears threatened again and Alani blinked them back angrily. "I…I thought she…" The words caught in her throat. "I couldn’t see the moon anywhere. I thought she’d left me…"

"Alani," Hercules said, "you couldn’t see the moon because it’s moon-dark. New moon tomorrow night. Which reminds me…" He lifted the pendant from around his neck. "This is yours. Hecate only allowed me to wear it until I found you." He held the silver disk out to her.

Alani drew back as if it might burn her. "No," she said fearfully.

"What’s wrong?"

"I can’t take it." She shook her head, but wouldn’t say more.

"Well, I’ll keep it for you for now." Slightly reluctant, Hercules put the pendant back around his neck. By chance, he was looking at Iolaus as he did so, and saw his friend frown.

***

"Here," the hunter called, attracting the attention of the others. "Here’s where they left the road."

Another man came closer with a torch to examine the crushed grass and torn leaves that were the signs of their quarry. He grunted, agreeing. "They’ll be camped by the river," he said.

"This is madness," a third man said. "Going up against Hercules!"

"He’s a friend of the witch who murdered Grassus," said the man with the torch gruffly. "He’ll be coming after us anyway."

"I told you we should have killed the girl," another man complained.

"Oh, you knew Hercules would show up, did you?"

"I knew we shouldn’t leave a witness alive."

The first hunter spoke again, impatiently. "D’you want to turn back? I’m all for it."

"No," snapped the torch-bearer.

At the same time, the third man spoke up. "No. We go on and kill the girl. Better late than never, eh?"

"Then we go this way." The hunter took the torch from the man who held it, and led them on.

***

The moonless sky full of stars was reflected in the slow-rippled surface of the river. Some distance from the water, where the grass grew thick and green, three people lay still within the ring of light cast by their campfire. Closest to the river, Iolaus slept peacefully, lying on his side with his head pillowed on his arm. Within easy reach of his hand, his sword lay sheathed in the grass beside him. A short distance away lay Alani, a borrowed yellow leather shirt tied tightly around her. She had tossed and turned for a long time, but at that moment she, too, was sleeping, her dreams undisturbed. Hercules lay awake, his hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the star-filled sky. He was remembering another night, many years ago.

_Dione’s body seemed to mould perfectly to his, with her head resting on his chest, his arm around her shoulders holding her there. Hercules lifted a hand and stroked her hair gently, tangling his fingers in those soft, dark curls. In the sensual afterglow of their lovemaking, neither of them felt the need to talk. Hercules, his eyes on the silver moonlight outside the cave, found his thoughts filled with his past. Wars and battles. The deaths of friends and lovers, and of people he hardly knew, but had been near when Celesta came for them. His world was one of danger, of adventure, of men who wanted to be the one who killed Hercules, and hostile gods who just wanted him dead. On a night as beautiful as this, with a woman he loved in his arms…he would have liked to stay right where he was forever._

_For a moment it seemed the world held its breath as Hercules seriously considered that possibility. Then he caught himself, and realised a different decision had to be made. He couldn’t change who he was. "I should leave," he said aloud._

_Dione shifted in his arms, looking up at him with her chin resting on his chest. "You will leave when you must," she said, accepting. "But what brought this on?"_

_"I was just thinking how much I’d like to stay," he told her, expecting laughter, or teasing, maybe, at the contradictory statement. Dione simply gazed at him, her eyes serious. "Dione…I would stay here forever if I could. Even better, I’d like to take you home with me, make a life with you." It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to do just that…but he knew her life was already committed elsewhere. He sought her mouth and kissed her lightly. "You are a sorceress, Dione," he smiled, making a joke of it. "You bewitched my heart."_

_"Sorceress…I suppose I am. But I’ve cast no spell on you, Hercules." Dione’s reply was more serious than he had expected. She ran light fingers across his forehead, smoothing away the creases of his frown. Her other hand moved slowly across his chest, feeling the curves of the muscles beneath warm skin and slightly rough hair. Her fingertips found a nipple and lingered there. "If that’s the way you feel…you are probably right. You should leave." Dione covered the same territory with her lips as with her fingers. She teased his nipple with her tongue when she reached it, grazed the sensitive skin lightly with her teeth. "…But…not tonight," she concluded, her voice scarcely more than a whisper._

_Dione reached up and covered his lips with her own. With her tongue she gently parted his lips, probing within. She explored his mouth thoroughly: his tongue, his teeth, the ridged roof of his mouth and the softness of his lips. Then she drew his tongue into her own mouth, inviting the same exploration from him._

_"No, not tonight," Hercules whispered huskily, when their mouths finally drew apart. He felt the renewed tightening in his loins as he reached down to cup her breast in one hand._

By the gods, he had loved her. He had almost forgotten that, in the losses and pain he had suffered over the years. Almost forgotten. From those few days of perfect love had come a child, his daughter, Alani. His firstborn, Hercules realised…a strange thought, that. It might take some getting used to.

He had seen nothing, heard nothing unusual, but suddenly Hercules was alert. There was danger. Lying still, half-closing his eyes so he would appear to be sleeping, Hercules waited. He could just see something (someone?) moving in the shadows just beyond the campfire’s light. An arrow flew through the air and Hercules reacted automatically, snatching the arrow-shaft from the air. With the same movement, he rolled and sprang to his feet. _He_ hadn’t been the arrow’s target: it was Alani!

"Iolaus!" he shouted. A number of dark figures emerged from the shadows and Hercules prepared to fight.

Hercules’ shout interrupted Iolaus during a very pleasant dream. The dream shattered with his friend’s cry and with a speed that can only come from a life lived in danger, Iolaus was on his feet, sword in hand, the sudden rush of adrenaline making him awake and alert more quickly that a dunking in iced water. Hercules was already in action. Iolaus had time to shake Alani awake. He shoved his dagger into her hand – she might need something to defend herself – and was ready to face the first attack.

Hercules was keeping one eye on Alani as he fought. He saw Iolaus with her and was grateful. Then a face rose before him: a face he recognised. One of the hunters who had raped Dione. Hercules blocked the hunter’s clumsy sword-thrust easily. Normally, he would have followed that block with a punch and the attacker would cease to be a problem. Not this time. He gripped the man’s wrist hard, twisted the short sword from his hand. The sword was now in Hercules’ hand and he thrust the blade into the hunter’s chest. The force behind that blow drove the weapon through the man’s ribcage and out of his back. Hercules pulled the sword free with a twist and went on fighting.

Alani gripped Iolaus’ dagger in both hands, watching the fight with growing fear. Until she, too, recognised a face. Not the man Hercules had killed, but another. The memory of Dione’s agonising death suddenly overwhelmed her with rage. She lunged toward the man with an incoherent cry. He was quick enough to catch her wrist, twisting the knife from her hand. Alani heard Iolaus shout her name. A sharp kick to the back of her knees made her cry out again as she fell to the ground. A rough hand grasped her clothing and she felt a man’s body press down on hers.

This time she did not panic. _Hecate, Crone of the Night. Lady of the Dark Moon, I need your power **now.**_ The words rose in her mind with eerie surety and she sent them out as a prayer, a challenge, a demand. This man intended to kill her. Yet Alani’s heightened senses told her of his sexual excitement as well. He thought she was afraid, and that turned him on. She was not afraid. The power of the goddess was a dark well inside her. Alani stared up and met the man’s eyes. Her hand, flung out to her side when she fell, closed on the hilt of a dagger. The man above her froze in place, held by her icy gaze, powerless to move.

Alani tightened her grip upon the hilt. She could feel his fear, now. Hard and cold as steel, she said, "Her name was Dione. Enjoy Tartarus."

She plunged the blade into his neck, burying it up to the hilt. It severed the carotid artery and the blood sprayed out. The man looked surprised. He died quickly, falling forward across Alani’s body. The dagger fell from her hand as she rolled the bleeding body off her and began to scramble up. A movement caught her eye and she looked up.

To see the blade of a sword descending toward her head. The deadly blow was blocked, with inches to spare. Sparks flew as the two swords clashed. Alani scrambled out of the way as Iolaus took on the man who tried to kill her. He was fighting two men at once. Iolaus was trying to protect her, but to do that he had to turn his back on one of the men he fought. Alani saw the man raise his sword, shouted a warning.

Too late. Iolaus began to turn, his sword coming up to parry the blow. But as he turned he was moving into the path of the descending blade. He never had a chance to avoid it.

Iolaus fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. Alani stared in horror. So slowly it seemed to take minutes, the blonde warrior collapsed to the ground, his lifeblood spilling dark upon the ground, directly from his heart.


	5. Interlude

Hercules had heard Alani’s shout of warning. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder just in time to see Iolaus fall. He hurled the bloody sword in his hand like a javelin, taking out the other man who was threatening Alani. That was all he had time to see, being a little busy with his own fight just then. The next time he glanced that way he saw Alani kneeling beside Iolaus and assumed she was trying to help. Unable to do anything else, Hercules concentrated on ending the battle. When it was over – the last of them fled – he went straight to Iolaus’ side.

What he saw horrified him. Iolaus lay there unmoving, his face grey. Alani, knelt beside him covered in blood; her clothes were soaked in red. If it was Iolaus’ blood, it was already too late. Alani’s left hand covered the gaping wound in Iolaus’ chest, her right was clenched into a fist over her heart. Hercules watched the scene with horror and despair. There was nothing, nothing at all that could be done for a wound like that. Iolaus would die.

He knelt beside Alani, reaching for her arm. "Alani, there’s nothing you can do." And it hurt him so much to say that.

Alani didn’t seem to hear him. Her skin was cool to the touch, and almost white. Her eyes were open, unblinking, focused on the dying man. She was trembling.

Hercules recognised what she was trying to do. For an instant he felt hope, and overwhelming relief. In the next moment he realised what the cost could be. Then he didn’t know whether to feel fear, or hope. Had it been anyone else, _anyone_, Hercules would have torn Alani away to make her stop. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was Iolaus. Hercules could not bear to watch him die. Again. But he could lose Alani, too. In an agony of indecision, Hercules watched, hardly daring to breathe.

He could almost see the power Alani was summoning, as an aura of silver light around her body. Her hand covering Iolaus’ wound was shaking with the effort. The tension was unbearable. Then it happened. Just for an instant that barely perceived aura intensified to brightness. In the unnatural light it cast, Hercules could see clearly the ragged edges of the wound begin to close. And disappear. It was over. Except for the blood soaking into the ground, there was no sign Iolaus had ever been wounded. But he still hadn’t moved.

Alani drew in her breath with a long sigh.

Seconds crawled by like years. Hercules couldn’t move. Iolaus took a shuddering breath. His eyes opened.

"How do you feel?" Alani asked him, her voice rough.

Iolaus looked up at her. "Like I went ten rounds against a titan." He gave her what was almost his usual grin.

The relief was overwhelming. "Welcome back," Hercules said. He turned to Alani, in awe of what she had done, intending to thank her.

Alani collapsed.

Hercules caught her as she fell. "Alani!" _Oh, gods, no._ Her eyes were open, but unseeing. Hercules felt for the pulse at her neck and found it faint, slow.

"What happened?" Iolaus asked, trying to sit up.

"Healing drains the life-force equivalent to the wound being healed. She gave too much…" Hercules cradled Alani in his arms, slapped her cheek lightly, trying to revive her. "Alani! Please, what can I do?"

Alani took a breath, somehow managed to speak. "Life for life…" Her voice was no more than a whisper. Her body became limp in his arms. With the last of her energy she added, "I…don’t have…my mother’s strength."

"Then take mine." Hercules’ response was immediate, with no thought for the possible consequences. Alani was his daughter, child of his body, child of his love. There was nothing he wouldn’t give for her life. Including his own. Alani was too weak to respond. "Alani! Oh gods, Alani, there has to be a way." He took her small hand in his, terrified by the coolness of her skin. It reminded him of…

…Of Hecate’s pendant, lying cool against his own skin. He lifted Alani’s hand and placed it over the pendant, the symbol of the goddess she served. He covered her hand with his own. _Hecate, help us. Help me._ He knew this could be done, but not how. He didn’t have Dione’s gift, couldn’t forge a link between them himself.

_You **are** linked, son of Zeus. Your blood is in her veins. Use it._

Iolaus was watching them, helpless, uncomprehending. The grief and desperation on Hercules’ face was hard to take. He saw Hercules bring Alani’s hand to the pendant. Everything went quiet. There was a flicker of silver from the pendant and Hercules gasped as if in pain.

The colour was returning to Alani’s cheeks. Her breathing quickened, then steadied to normal. She opened her eyes and gazed at her father. They looked at each other for a long, silent moment. Then she moved her hand from where he held it and laid her palm flat against his chest. "Are _you_ alright?" she asked weakly.

Hercules smiled with relief when she spoke. "I’m fine, Alani." He helped her to sit up, still supporting her with his arm. "I have strength to spare."

***

Iolaus checked the rabbit he had spitted over the fire and moved it a little further away from the flames. He wanted it cooked, not charred. Iolaus had wakened with the dawn, which given the events of the night surprised him. He’d considered trying to get some more sleep, but his stomach insisted on breakfast instead. Catching the rabbit wasn’t hard. He was waiting impatiently for it to cook, and feeling just a little smug because he was the one wide awake while Hercules was still sleeping: that really did make a change. He was trying not to think too much about the previous night, but couldn’t get the images out of his mind. Someone had stabbed him through the heart…yet here he was, alive to tell the tale, with no sign of an injury. Just the memory of pain, the sickening cold of steel…

"Mm. That smells good." Hercules’ voice, heavy with sleep, was a welcome interruption.

Iolaus turned to his friend with a grin. "Yeah. If it doesn’t burn too badly I might even be able to spare you some." Hercules returned the grin, watching as Iolaus checked the rabbit again. "Are you OK, Herc?" Iolaus asked.

"Yeah, fine. Why wouldn’t I be?" Hercules sat up, looking pointedly at their "breakfast". "Try turning it," he suggested.

"You think?" Iolaus turned the rabbit, then returned to the original subject. "Last night…if I understand it right, you gave Alani your strength." _What really happened?_ he was asking.

Hercules didn’t hear the unspoken question. "Not all of it," he answered. "I’m not sure I’d want to take on a hydra right now…but I’m not hurt, Iolaus."

Hercules looked around the campsite. They hadn’t stayed at the site of the previous night’s battle: none of them would have been able to sleep there. But they hadn’t followed the river very far before making camp again. This was a nice spot: he hadn’t noticed it in the dark. The meandering river curved at this point, creating a natural beach covered with small, rounded pebbles. There were flowers all over the riverbank. It would be a good place to rest for a while.

He had not forgotten the Chimera, back in Calydon. He had managed to stop it for one night, perhaps for longer, if it had really understood him, but Hercules knew that only Alani could control it fully. He didn’t want to consider what might happen if it turned out that she couldn’t. Either way, they had to get back to Calydon quickly. Then again…they had fought a hard battle last night and Alani had been exhausted before that. They would probably get there much quicker if they took some time to rest first.

Hercules told Iolaus what he was thinking. Iolaus glanced toward Alani. The girl was still sleeping. In the daylight he could clearly see the purple bruises on her arms and face, the scratches she had gained in her desperate attempt to escape Krassis, and the blood – most of it not hers – that saturated the borrowed shirt she wore. There was no way she could keep up the sort of pace he and Hercules would set. Reluctantly Iolaus agreed that a rest was a good idea. "How long, though?"

Hercules shrugged. "Depends on Alani. At least until afternoon."

Iolaus nodded. "That’s long enough for me to find the nearest town. It should be downriver a couple of miles."

"What for?"

"Alani needs some decent clothes, Herc. Your shirt suits her, but you’ll never get all that blood out of it."

"Where are you hiding your moneybags?" Hercules looked Iolaus up and down.

He laughed. "I’ve got a couple of dinars. I know that won’t be enough, but I’ll think of something. Maybe I can trade some work." He leaned over the fire, checked the rabbit again and decided it was done. With his dagger he sliced the meat, offering Hercules a share. "Herc…while she’s still asleep, there’s something you should know."

"What’s that?" Hercules frowned at the tone of his friend’s voice. Iolaus sounded uneasy, and that bothered him.

"Last night, before I was…hurt…" Iolaus told Hercules about the man Alani had killed: what he had seen of it. "I don’t know what happened, Herc. It was as if he let her do it. He just sat there and watched her cut his throat."

"Hecate," Hercules said, frowning a little at the implications of the story. He had seen none of this. "Or, maybe Alani did it alone. She does have some power." He saw Iolaus looking at him worriedly and forced a smile. "I’ll talk to her, alright! Will that make you feel better?"

"Probably not."

***

Not long after Iolaus left, Alani woke. She seemed much more relaxed in the light of day, smiling at Hercules when she saw him. Hercules offered her breakfast – the last of Iolaus’ rabbit – and brought her a drink from the river. One thing he had noticed about Alani: she never started a conversation. It seemed she would rather sit in silence than be the first to speak.

So as he handed her the waterbag, he said, "I think we ought to discuss last night."

Alani nodded, looking down. "He was hurt trying to protect me. I couldn’t…"

"That’s not what I’m talking about," Hercules interrupted, realising she had misunderstood. "I mean the man you killed. How did you do it, Alani?" Being honest with himself, Hercules admitted he was uncomfortable asking. Alani might be his daughter, but she had met him for the first time yesterday. He didn’t really have any right to play father to her. Then again, someone had to have this conversation with her. It may as well be him.

"How? With a knife."

"It wasn’t just that, was it?"

Alani looked down, avoiding Hercules’ steady gaze. "No, it wasn’t," she admitted finally. "I…have some power. Hecate taught me to use it. These past few days…I was so scared I forgot, or couldn’t concentrate. Last night I wasn’t scared. So I used it."

"You weren’t scared, and you have power," Hercules repeated. "Then you could have just stopped him, couldn’t you? It wasn’t necessary to kill him."

"I wanted to kill him," Alani said firmly, with just a trace of defiance. "He’s one of the bastards who killed Dione."

_That’s what I was afraid of_, Hercules thought, but didn’t say it. Gods, this wasn’t going to be easy. He remembered his own actions during that night battle: he had done the same as Alani – used his power to kill – and for identical reasons. _Be honest, Herc, there isn’t a difference._ But that wasn’t the point. "Do you think that the right thing to do?" he asked her eventually.

Alani’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. "Of course it was! Don’t you believe in justice?"

"Sure I do. In a court of law." Alani had never known that kind of justice, however; she probably didn’t even know what a court was. And Hercules felt his own hypocrisy…his own standards of justice had brought him into conflict with the law more than once. He tried to put that statement right. "And sometimes killing _is_ justified. But, Alani, you didn’t kill him in self defence. So was it really for justice? Or revenge?" Alani opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her. "No, don’t answer right away. _Think_ about it."

Alani did think about it. She picked a long blade of grass from the ground and slowly shredded it to pieces while she considered. After a long silence she looked up at Hercules, frowning. "I’m not planning to hunt down the other two, if that’s what you’re worried about."

"I’m not. They’re both dead." She was avoiding the question and that was a bad sign.

"You killed them?" Alani didn’t wait for Hercules to confirm her guess. "Then what gives you the right to tell me I was wrong? You weren’t there, Hercules! How is it alright for you to kill, but not me?"

"It’s not," Hercules answered calmly. "And I’m not saying you were wrong. I just want you to think about it. Something I learned the hard way: in the heat of battle, there isn’t time to consider all the angles and make a wise decision. But when it’s over, Alani, you have to be prepared to take responsibility for your actions. You have a power. Last night you used it – right or wrong – to kill. Is that how you want to use your gifts? Did killing that man make you feel any better?"

Alani shook her head slowly. "Nothing can make me feel better. Nothing will bring her back. It was something that had to be done, and I did it. That’s all."

Hercules had to be satisfied with that.

***

Alani scooped up a handful of the clear water and raised it to her lips. It was deliciously cool, and she found herself automatically saying a prayer of thanks to the goddess. A light breeze blew across the river, stirring her hair as she leaned over the water, and making the flowers along the riverbank nod their heads. The movement caught her attention and she looked more closely at the plants.

Alani glanced around her, looking for something to dig with and eventually retrieved a sturdy stick, about two feet long, from the cache beside the campfire. She began by digging up by the roots several plants with pale pink flowers and many sharp-pointed leaves, then rinsed her hands briefly in the river and started to gather the youngest, thin leaves from another.

"May I help?" Hercules asked. She hadn’t heard him approach.

"You can if you can find a couple of flat stones, about the size of your hand."

Hercules stifled a smile at her authoritative tone and started to search the riverbank for what she wanted. "I know a bit about plants, but I don’t recognise that one," he commented, watching her sort carefully through the leaves, selecting the ones she wanted and laying them out on the grass.

"It’s karse. It’s good for women in childbirth, but I’m just picking it because it tastes good. I’m not keen on unseasoned meat."

Her reply was interesting. She identified the plant as much by its use as by its taste or appearance, which suggested she knew a great deal more. "Here." Hercules produced a couple of stones that seemed to fit what she wanted. "What do you want me to do?"

She showed him the other plants she had dug. "Rinse the mud off, then crush the whole plant between the stones. It should turn into a pulp quite easily."

"What is it?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "A moment ago you said you know plants. And you don’t recognise soapwort?"

He grinned, beginning the work of crushing the plants. "OK, you caught me. It’s called trying to make conversation."

She couldn’t resist returning that smile. "I have been a bit quiet, haven’t I?" she admitted.

The conversation became a bit easier after that. Alani shared some of her expertise with Hercules: he had guessed right, she knew a lot about the properties, medicinal and otherwise, of the plants around them. When Alani declared her intention of taking a bath, Hercules told her to leave her shirt with him: he would try to get it clean. She went around the bend of the river for privacy while she bathed, taking a handful of the crushed soapwort with her. The plant was rich in saponin, a substance that would foam rather like soap when crushed and mixed with water. It had most of the cleansing properties of soap, too and left a pleasant, if faint scent. Alani washed her clothing first. She hated the thin garments Krassis had dressed her in, but they were all she had. She laid them out on the riverbank to dry and took her time cleaning herself, washing off the experience as much as the dirt and grime and blood.

Water was one of the many symbols of the goddess. It was one of the four elements that made up the earth, and symbolic of life in all its phases. The waters of birth; the continuation of life, for who could live without water?; and of death, too, for the underworld was surrounded by a river. It was cleansing and pure, and bountiful as the earth, for there was always water to be found somewhere. These thoughts passed through Alani’s mind on a subconscious level. She didn’t need to think about it, it was as automatic to her as drawing breath. The knowledge learned at her mother’s knee served her well, and her long, thorough cleansing did more than refresh her: it began her healing.

Eventually, she dressed in the slightly damp clothes she had cleaned: they covered her body adequately, since by now she trusted Hercules just enough to know he wouldn’t try to touch her. She returned to him none too soon. She had taken longer than he expected and he was beginning to worry.

"I don’t think this will ever be quite the same again," she sighed, holding up the stained and still wet leather. Hercules had done his best with it, but repeated washings had served only to fade the bloodstains, not to get rid of them.

"I’m sure you’re right," Hercules agreed. "Hopefully Iolaus will solve that problem for you. He said he would try to find you some new clothes." Hercules frowned: Alani’s expression had changed at his mention of Iolaus. Come to think of it, she hadn’t once asked after him. "What’s the matter?" he asked her.

Alani didn’t answer.

"I thought you liked Iolaus. Alani, what’s the problem?" When he got no response Hercules sat down beside her on the riverbank. "Alani, you’ve been through a lot, I know. I realise you didn’t get the best introduction to life outside Calydon, but don’t let a few evil men convince you that everyone’s like that. Most people have good in them. And Iolaus…he’s my best friend. He’s not perfect, but he’s a good man. I promise you, he’d rather die than hurt you, or any woman."

Hercules started to reach for her hand. It was a natural gesture to him, but he saw the flicker of fear in her eyes and she drew away from him. Her unconscious rejection hurt, but he wasn’t going to push it. Alani might never trust him completely. He withdrew his hand and tried to talk to her again. "You know, you saved his life last night. Iolaus won’t forget that in a hurry. Neither will I."

"You saved _my_ life," Alani said.

"That’s different. A father is supposed to protect his children." His response was automatic, but no less true for that, and with the words came the familiar stab of pain: grief and the insidious guilt that would never fade.

Alani looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Tentatively, she covered his hand with her own. "What’s wrong?" she whispered.

"Nothing. I…" Hercules tried to dismiss it. He hadn’t thought his feelings were so obvious.

"Don’t lie. This is the second time I’ve felt this in you. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But please don’t lie."

Her small hand covering his was warm and comforting. He didn’t have to tell her. There were very few people who would have the courage to ask…and if anyone deserved to know, Alani did. Even though she had never known them, they were her family, too. Hercules took a deep breath and began to speak. He told her about Deianeira, and their children. He talked about the home he had tried to build for them, about the kind of life he had wanted to live. He told her about the way it had all ended: Hera’s fireball, Hera’s revenge. It wasn’t as difficult to tell as he had expected. He didn’t look at her while he spoke, just kept his eyes on the slowly flowing water. Alani listened in silence, her hand still covering his.

The story ended, his voice trailed off. Alani gazed up at him, unspoken sympathy filling her eyes. "Why?" she asked. "Why would Hera do that?"

Hercules smiled bitterly. "She doesn’t like me much."

"That’s obvious, but why?"

"Did Dione never tell you who my father is?"

Alani shook her head, confused by the apparent change of subject. "No. Does it matter?"

"In this case, it does. He’s Zeus."

"A god?"

"Uh-huh. He’s my father, but my mother is mortal. That’s one reason Hera hates me. Not the only one." Hercules tried to explain. He had never exactly gone out of his way to make Hera like him. He talked about some of his early adventures: he had seemed to find Hera involved rather too often. He had never – could never – just stand by and do nothing while she and the other gods played games with people’s lives. Hera wasn’t the only god who did that, but she was one of the worst. Mortals were nothing but tools to her, and her amusements caused no end of suffering.

Following his own heart had a cost. As his fame spread, as men came to know Hercules, son of Zeus, as a hero, Hera’s hatred for him grew. Maybe if he just lived out his life as a farmer and no one ever heard of him…but that was kidding himself. He could not possibly be other than he was, and Hera couldn’t stand that the living proof of her husband’s infidelity was so well known, so celebrated…so loved.

Alani was not sure she understood. Hercules’ attitude made no sense to her…where was his respect for the gods?

It was a question Hercules had heard many times before. When Alani asked it, though, he couldn’t just dismiss it. He owed her a fair answer. "I don’t think they deserve respect simply for the sake of their power, Alani. I _know_ the gods. They don’t help us, they just use us." Hercules looked at Alani’s frown. He wasn’t getting through, here. "Look, it comes down to attitude. Like…well, the men who took you from Calydon. They didn’t see you as a person. You weren’t worth anything to them except a few dinars. But you know that was wrong, don’t you? You know you’re someone special, a unique person, that you have rights, and deserve respect." Alani nodded slowly. Hercules went on, "That’s the same thing that’s wrong with the gods’ attitude. They don’t see people as individuals, just a group called ’mortals’. So they don’t care. I don’t think they deserve respect for that."

The comparison made Alani uncomfortable. Hercules was making sense, and Alani didn’t want to agree with him: her upbringing didn’t allow it. Her brow creased with concentration as she tried to find a hole in his argument. Hercules waited for her to speak.

Eventually she said, worriedly, "I guess I understand why you feel that way. But it doesn’t seem right. What about Hecate? Do you think she’s the same as Hera?"

It was Hercules’ turn to be uncomfortable. He sighed heavily and looked up at the sky, thinking about that. No, Hecate was not ’the same’. Yet…

"Alani, that’s not an easy one to answer. I just don’t _understand_ Hecate. She’s everything that most people fear: darkness, the unknown, a queen of the underworld. She’s everywhere, sees everything, but hardly ever makes her presence felt. Hecate won’t acknowledge any authority, and that makes her dangerous. But…"

He had to stop there, to try to arrange his thoughts. The simple truth was that Hecate had no place in the world Hercules knew: the well-ordered world of the gods where Hades ruled the underworld, Zeus the sky, Poseidon the sea. She was outside it, beyond his experience. Yet even if he had realised that truth, Hercules couldn’t have found the words to express it. After a long silence, he shrugged, mentally giving up and hoping Alani wouldn’t press him further.

"I have never known Hecate to do harm," he conceded. "That’s a pretty good place to start."

***

It was mid-afternoon when Iolaus returned. The hunter was carrying a bundle (too large to contain only one dress) in one hand and a pair of pheasants, recently killed, in the other. Hercules and Alani were sitting near the river talking, and Iolaus managed to get quite close to them before Hercules turned around and saw him. Proudly, he showed off his purchases: he had found something for Alani: a simple dress of woven wool, dyed dark blue. He had also, somehow, bought blankets for all three of them, as well as some bread to go with the birds he had hunted.

Iolaus was just waiting for Hercules to ask how he’d managed it. He was kinda pleased with himself: Herc would _never_ guess.

Hercules looked suitably impressed. "How did you do it, Iolaus?"

"Oh, it was nothing." Iolaus gave a "modest" grin. "Just call it an old hunter’s trick." Hercules was looking at Iolaus, and didn’t see Alani pale at those words. Iolaus saw it, though and it took some of the pleasure out of the joke. _Oh, well done, Iolaus. Subtle, or what?_

"Yeah, right." Hercules returned the grin, then looked at him more seriously. "Come on, Iolaus. How did you do all this with three dinars? I just know you’re not going to tell me you’ve been stealing."

"Me? I’m shocked, Hercules. I met someone in town. An…old friend – of yours."

"Salmonius again?" Hercules raised an eyebrow. "I thought he’d still be in Attica."

"Not Salmonius. A different friend. Autolycus."

"You’re telling me this _is_ stolen?"

"Nah. Don’t you think stealing blankets is a little beneath the King of Thieves? I borrowed money from him."

"That’s a neat trick."

"Yeah." Iolaus grinned. "You owe him thirty dinars."

"Uh…_I_ owe him?"

Iolaus spread his hands, put his most innocent look on his face. "What can I say? He wouldn’t lend _me_ a penny. But he trusts you." And suddenly it became too hard to hold back his laughter. After a moment, Hercules joined him.

When their merriment died away, Iolaus changed the subject to food. With Hercules’ encouragement, Alani took over the cooking herself…after having told Iolaus what she thought of his unimaginative culinary skills. Besides karse growing along the riverbank, Alani had found wild carrots, some spring fruits and other fresh vegetables growing all around. Both men could manage to pluck and gut the birds; Alani stuffed the cavities with the mixture she had made from those vegetables, then wrapped both pheasants in leaves and cooked them directly on the coals of the campfire they had kept burning all day. The leaves kept the meat from scorching, and the end result would be delicious.

While they waited for their meal to cook, Iolaus broached a more serious subject. There had been only one topic of gossip in the town he had visited: the depredations of the beast of Calydon. "…No one could talk about anything else, Herc. I guess the stories have got a bit exaggerated, but it sounds bad."

Hercules’ face was grim. "We’re a long way from Calydon, yet. Are these stories about before we got there? Or after?"

Iolaus shrugged helplessly. "I couldn’t tell. Everyone said ’last night’ but that’s the way these stories get told, isn’t it? I’m hoping that what you did worked."

"No." Hercules shook his head. "What I did wouldn’t have lasted long. _Maybe_ until now, but…"

"Are you talking about the Chimera?" Alani interrupted.

"Was that not clear?" Iolaus said.

"No." She looked at Hercules, frowning. "What’s happening? The Chimera wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not outside the wood, anyway."

Hercules tried to explain. "That’s not quite true, Alani. There has to be a guardian in Calydon – at least, that’s what Hecate told me. When Dione died, and you were taken away…" He stopped, silenced by the horrified look on Alani’s face.

"Oh, the poor thing!" she exclaimed. "No wonder he’s angry. I hadn’t thought…he hasn’t been alone for a hundred years." Alani closed her eyes for a few moments, thinking. "But…you said he’s _killed_? Outside Calydon?"

"Yes, he has," Hercules confirmed. "I think…when I talked to it, I…" Words failed him.

Alani smiled. "His communication can be a little overwhelming."

Alani’s understanding made it easier. "I think he was looking for you…or for the men who killed Dione. He thought it was his fault, somehow."

Alani nodded. "I guess that makes sense. But how can we stop him now?"

"I was hoping you’d know the answer to that." Hercules tried to hide his sudden fear.

Alani bit her lip. "I can take him back to Calydon…but he’s not supposed to taste blood outside the wood. I’m not fully trained, Hercules. I’m not sure what to do if…"

Hercules took a deep breath. "Well," he said, as much to Iolaus as to Alani, "don’t worry. We will stop him. One way, or the other."

***

It wasn’t her silent sobbing that woke him. It was her pain. Hercules glanced over to Alani’s blankets and found them empty. He found her just a little way from their camp, sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree with tears pouring down her cheeks. Hercules sat beside her and she looked up at him.

"What is it?" he asked her.

She shook her head, wiping her wet cheeks with her hand.

"Come on, Alani. Talk to me."

"I – I can’t do it."

He frowned, not sure what she meant. "Do what?" he asked gently.

"Go back. Do what you want. Be what everyone wants me to be." There were fresh tears standing in her eyes.

Hercules reached for her hand, pleased that this time she didn’t flinch away. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to."

"Yes I do!" she countered. "You need me to stop the Chimera hurting people. And once I’m there, I won’t be able to leave. Hecate won’t allow it." She paused, looking down at her feet. "I was born for this. I don’t have a choice."

"Listen to me." Hercules waited until she met his eyes. "No one is going to force you to do anything. If you don’t want to go near Calydon, I’ll take care of the Chimera myself. And when I’ve done that, I’ll make sure Hecate lets you make your own choices."

"You can’t fight Hecate!"

Hercules smiled crookedly. "You don’t really know any of the other gods, do you?" She shook her head: no. "Well, I’ve fought Hera all my life. I’ve fought Ares and Discord and Strife. Believe me, Hecate won’t be any different." While his words were confident, Hercules wasn’t exactly sure they were true. He would fight for Alani, regardless, but Hecate’s power was at least equal to Hera’s, and at least twice Hera would have killed him if Zeus had not intervened. And since Hecate would pay no attention to Zeus…

Alani was silent for a long moment, mulling over what he’d said. Then she pulled her hand away from his. "It’s useless. I don’t understand this world. Where would I go?"

"I can think of a few places, if it’s what you really want." Hercules said. Alani wasn’t looking at him, and he was trying to hide a frown. She had not yet admitted what was really bothering her. Hercules had a rough idea of her problem, but unless she could tell him, he wasn’t really able to help.

"Could I…could I come home with you?" she asked him hesitantly.

"There’s nothing I’d like better, Alani. But I don’t have a home any more, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be there very much. I’m sure we could find you somewhere. You could live with my mother, maybe."

"Does she live alone?" Alani asked hopefully.

"No, she’s married to a man called Jason. He’s a good man. You’d like him."

She shook her head again. "Don’t want to be around men."

_Now we’re getting somewhere._ "Alani…what’s this really about?" Hercules asked, now sure he knew.

Suddenly it all spilled out. Hunters in Calydon. Dione raped while they made Alani watch. The abuse she suffered before they sold her. Krassis and his awful desires. She wanted to die. She would die before letting anyone touch her again. Ever. Yes, she knew they were evil men and yes, she knew that not everyone was like that. But the fact remained, it had happened. Alani was terrified of a world where such things were allowed. She was scared of Calydon, too, because Hecate would require her to accept a man one day. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Alani wept.

Hercules understood. Unfortunately, this wasn’t something he was equipped to deal with. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her while she wept, but he was afraid that would make it worse. Alani was learning to trust him, but he was still a man. Eventually, he said the only thing he could think of: "Dione wouldn’t want you to feel this way."

Her head jerked up, eyes flashing. "What would you know? You don’t know what they did!"

He felt tears sting his eyes. "I _do_ know," he said quietly. "I know exactly what they did to her." He repressed a shudder. Those memories would be with him forever. "She showed me, Alani," he added.

"Then how can you say those things?"

"Because it’s true." How could he make her understand? "Alani…I know you’ve been through a lot. And I know words don’t mean much. But…Dione wouldn’t want you to miss out on joy." He was searching for the right words, with no idea if he would find them. "I don’t know if you can believe me, after what you saw. But with the right person, when you’re ready, it can be wonderful. It really can."

"You would say that!" she flared. "You’re a man!"

Alani couldn’t have hurt him more if she had cut out his heart. Hercules’ mind instinctively shied away from the implications of those words. Gods, if she really felt that way he had no chance of reaching her. He’d thought she was coming to trust him…

He tried to speak and found his voice rough with emotion. "Alani…do you think that’s how you came to be born? Do you really believe I would have done anything Dione didn’t want? Hurt her? Forced her?" He was afraid she would say yes. Terrified.

Alani seemed to read that fear in his eyes. She looked down, suddenly contrite. "I don’t…I mean, I didn’t mean it like that," she mumbled.

Hercules risked touching her: he reached for her chin and turned her to face him, looking into her eyes. "Yes, you did."

Slowly Alani nodded. "Yes, I did." Her voice was barely audible. She looked away again, ashamed.

There was a way, Hercules realised suddenly. He didn’t stop to consider it. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have done it. He asked her, "Alani, do you have your mother’s gift? Can you share my thoughts?"

"I think so…"

"Then let me show you something. Please, look at me."

***

_Hercules hurried out of the cave to meet Dione as she struggled up the path, dragging a heavy bundle of wood. "You could have called me," he chided gently, taking the bundle from her. The weight was nothing to him, and he carried the wood under one arm while he slipped the other around her waist. _

_She leaned against him gratefully. "I didn’t think of it. I’m not used to having help."_

_"You have help now." Hercules stacked the wood just outside the cave as they reached the top of the path. He held Dione away from him, his hands on her shoulders. "Look at you. I can’t believe you left me here doing nothing while you chopped wood. You told me you were just going for water!" She looked tired, her face was smudged with dirt and shiny with sweat. "Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up." He guided her away from the cave._

_"But I have to…"_

_"It will wait," Hercules said firmly and she realised he would carry her to the pool if she tried to refuse again. _

_Although tempted by that notion, Dione allowed him to lead her there, and didn’t argue when he ordered her into the water. It did feel good, she conceded: she was hot and sweaty after her hard work. She took a deep breath and dived under the water, coming up just as Hercules joined her. He washed her whole body, his hands slippery with the lightly scented soap Dione made. He took his time, pausing every now and then to kiss a part of her he had just cleaned. Dione found her tiredness melting away as she relaxed, luxuriating in the demi-god’s gentle, knowing touch. Finally she lay back against his massive chest and he held her there, their bodies immersed in the water, just comfortable together._

_Hercules could feel his body’s inevitable reaction to her nakedness against his, but he ignored it. She would be tired, and he hadn’t brought her here for that. But Dione could feel his growing hardness against her back and felt the desire in his emotions. It didn’t take her long to persuade him to act on it. _

_Dione twisted in his arms, reached up to kiss him. He felt her part his lips with her tongue and responded automatically. In the same moment her warm hand encircled his hard manhood and he groaned into her mouth. As they kissed she moved her hand up and down that long shaft with long, firm strokes, eliciting more groans of pleasure from Hercules. When she released him, he lifted her easily into his arms and carried her out of the water. He lay her still-damp body among the bracken. _

_Dione knelt in front of him, reaching for his manhood again. She ran her hands across the soft skin, feeling the hardness beneath her fingertips. She reached the base of his manhood and gently cupped his testicles in her hand. Leaning forward, she kissed the tip of his penis, felt him shiver and smiled up at him. "I love this," she murmured, "such a sweet toy." She kissed it again, enclosed the end within her mouth, teasing the small slit with her tongue and massaging its length with her hands. She could feel his pleasure at her actions and it increased her own. He had barely touched her and she was ready for him. Dione drew him down beside her. They kissed – she loved his kisses, so slow, so intimate – and she lifted her leg over his thigh, intending to draw him inside her._

_"Not so fast," he said, drawing away from her with a smile. Gently but firmly, he pushed her onto her back. He kissed her again, on the lips, along her cheek to her ear, down her neck. He nibbled at the soft, sensitive skin along her collarbone, felt the pulse in her neck with his tongue. He ran his fingertips along the inside of her arm and she shivered. His hands moved to her breasts, his touch light and teasing. He pinched one tightly beaded nipple between his fingers and she moaned. Dione’s responses delighted him. She had no pretences yet she was completely abandoned. He was both amazed and thrilled that he was the one bringing these feelings out in her._

_Hercules bent to take her nipple in his mouth. She pushed it toward him and, sensing what she needed, he suckled hard. He reached between her legs and heard her moan his name, pleading, begging. His fingers found that small organ of pleasure within her folds and he massaged it firmly, his mouth still at her breasts. She cried out, unexpectedly reaching a peak. Hercules had to fight for control himself, feeling the surge of hot fluids in his hand as her cries of orgasm subsided to moans. He left her breasts, his kisses moving lower. He tasted the salt of sweat on her stomach. He stroked the firm flesh of her inner thigh and knelt between her legs. He opened the folds of her womanhood with gentle fingers and tasted her. He was playing, experimenting. He teased her nodule with his tongue, tried a gentle suction, and continued as she encouraged him. Dione’s breath was coming in small, rapid moans. Hercules was enjoying her reactions, and it enabled him to resist the demands of his own desire. At least for a bit longer. He slipped one finger inside her and her hips jerked convulsively. _

_"Hercules… Oh, please…" she moaned. He raised his head and looked at her. "Please, I want you now."_

_"As you command," he smiled. _

_Dione reached for him as he knelt above her, desperate to feel him inside. How could he do this to her? Dione could feel his need as urgently as her own, but still he held himself back. His hand moved within the folds of her womanhood, teasing her opening as he kissed his way up her body to the sweet twin mounds of her breasts. His lips covered her sensitive nipple as the tip of his manhood touched her folds tantalisingly. _

_"Hercules…oh, now. Please, now…"_

_Hercules slid into her warm embrace at last and she welcomed him eagerly, with cries of pleasure. And as their bodies joined, so did their minds. Dione opened to him with perfect trust, and, like the first time, his pleasure was somehow doubled, a sweet agony of sensation as he felt her orgasm building along with his own. She didn’t want gentleness now and he thrust into her hard, deeply, exactly as she needed. He pulled back and thrust again, and again. Her pleasure rose to match his and he could hold back no longer. The orgasm pulsed through them both, he cried out her name, his godly seed pumped forth into the fertile soil of her womb._

***

"Was it really like that?" But Alani already knew he couldn’t have lied. Not that way, mind to mind.

Hercules smiled gently. "It really was. I loved Dione a great deal."

"Thank you…father." Alani moved into his arms, resting her head against his chest. Hercules wrapped his arms around her and held her there against him, not speaking, simply overjoyed that she could feel safe with him. By the gods, he loved this child. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. His arms tightened around her protectively. He felt rather than heard her tears begin to flow again, and knew, somehow, that this time her tears were for Dione and not for herself. Tears that would heal.

After some time, Hercules tried to speak to her. Receiving no reply, he reached down and gently tilted her head up. She was sound asleep. Hercules lifted her in his strong arms and carried her back to her blankets. In the morning he would take her home.

In the sky above them, a new moon was rising.


	6. Calydon

_"Thank you…father." Alani moved into his arms, resting her head against his chest. Hercules' arms tightened around her protectively, his eyes full of relief and joy._

A wave of the goddess' hand caused the vision to fade. Hecate began to turn away from the pool, once more aware of an uninvited presence in her domain.

"He's going to win, Hecate."

The goddess, wearing her maiden face as befitted the new moon, stepped toward the king of the gods. "You make it sound like a war." She waited for Zeus to reply, but he simply stood his ground, silent. "Your son and I are on the same side in this," she added.

"Never _quite_ the same side. I just want you to know I am watching you."

Hecate laughed, a sound like silver bells ringing throughout the cavern. "Really, old man, anyone would think I meant your son harm. I'm not Hera, you know."

"No. Even Hera obeys the rules. And this time, so will you."

Hecate's eyes flashed anger. "Make me, old man." Their eyes met. It was a battle of wills thousands of years old, order vs. evolution, authority vs. independence. No physical battle, this, for the direct opposition of two such powers might have destroyed whole suns. The air around them crackled with energy, but both god and goddess held themselves in check, their battle fought by will alone.

Neither would back down. Simultaneously, each of them turned away. An understanding had been reached.

"I pay my debts, old man." Hecate's voice was like ice. "Even, if you recall, the one I owed to you."

***

There was a heap of flowers, pale blue, the stems long and thin, in Alani's lap, along with long grasses and leaves of several different varieties. Her fingers worked automatically, weaving all that greenery into a wreath. She worked quickly, with an ease that came from talent reinforced by many hours of practice. She hardly even needed to watch what she was doing, just glanced down occasionally. The rest of the time her eyes were on the river. She saw a fish, silver beneath the water, darting in and out of the reeds. A little further away, a brightly coloured bird sat on a stone outcrop. As she watched, it dived into the water, so smoothly it hardly left a splash, and seconds later came up again with a small fish in its beak. Had the fish even known the bird existed? she wondered. Or was it plucked from its home unawares, by a force it never even imagined?

She heard a rustling sound behind her and turned around to see Hercules approaching. Alani was beginning to feel she knew him. Dione had told her very little of this man besides his name, but she was learning. He was a remarkable man, a hero to Alani as much as he was to the many other people he had helped over the years. She was coming to understand, too, that Dione had kept the knowledge from her, not for spite, or to keep her in ignorance, but simply because words could not do him justice, and the memories were too personal to share.

"Good morning," Hercules said as she smiled up at him. The sunlight flashed on Hecate's pendant, resting on his chest. "How are you feeling this morning?"

The question was much more than a polite enquiry. "I am…better. Ready to travel," Alani answered. Her fingers stayed busy at the wreath in her lap. Making a decision, Alani looked up, meeting his blue eyes with a steady gaze. "That's Dione's amulet, isn't it?" She watched him nod, though she had already known the answer. "I think I'm ready to wear it now. That is, if you don't mind giving it up."

Hercules reached up and removed the pendant. "I never felt quite comfortable about wearing it. But are you sure, Alani? I won't take it back from you if you change your mind."

"I'm sure." Her hands left the now-completed wreath and she reached out to take the amulet from Hercules' hand. They didn't touch, but as the silver disk passed from his hand to hers she felt a shock of power. From the way his hand jerked back, Alani knew Hercules had felt it, too. She turned the amulet over in her hands. The disk itself was about the size of her palm, the edges worn smooth by repeated polishing. On one side was etched the triple moon symbol of Hecate, but that side of the pendant was usually against the skin, concealed. Not for secrecy, but because Hecate thrived on mystery, her presence rarely obvious. On the reverse side, three pale moonstones were set amid an abstract pattern of lines, circles and triangles. This was the pattern normally seen by others. To the uninitiated eye it was simply a decoration, but Alani knew that the apparently random pattern contained far more significance than that.

For a moment she hesitated. If she put the amulet on, now, of her own free will, there would be no going back. Despite Hercules' insistence that she must make her own decisions, she knew that this choice would remove several others. She looked down at the wreath in her lap and nodded to herself. She hung the chain about her neck. The amulet settled against the soft wool of her dress, its weight comfortable, almost familiar, as if it had always been there.

"Understanding is important to you, isn't it?" she asked, looking up at Hercules again.

He frowned, not sure he understood the question.

"Yesterday, you told me you don't understand Hecate. You like to know what's what. If you understand something, you can control it."

"I don't think that's quite fair, Alani."

"Isn't it? When was the last time you could just relax and go with events?"

"Uh…" _Last time I did that, it almost got me killed._

She smiled at his hesitation, catching just a sense of his thoughts. "Tell me, Hercules, do you understand why the moon's path in the sky is random, while the sun always rises in the east? Do you know why there are stars? Why the wind blows?"

"I'm not a god, Alani. Only they can understand such things."

"The gods might understand them, Hecate _is_ those things." Alani's voice took on an odd quality as she spoke, as if her voice was not her own. "She exists in the wisdom of the stars, in the pulse of blood and in the slow growth of trees. She is the mystery of the waters, the desire in the heart of a man…She owns no temples and demands no sacrifice, for all acts of love and pleasure are Her rituals." Alani paused for breath, and when she spoke again her voice was normal. "She can't _be_ understood, Hercules. The closer you get to knowing Her, the less you will understand."

Hercules returned her gaze, feeling slightly uneasy. The same could be said, he thought, of Alani.

Alani broke away from his look, and lifted the wreath from her lap. Into it she had woven all her memories of the past few days, all of her anger, her fear, her grief. It was a symbolic act, not true magic as she knew it: creating from the horrors she had seen a thing of beauty. She stood up and gazed over the silvery water of the river. With a deliberate cast, she threw the wreath into the centre of the river. It landed on the surface with a splash, sank slightly, but remained floating, beginning its journey downriver. Alani murmured a prayer and turned around.

Her mood seemed to have changed like lightning. She gave Hercules a wide smile and walked back toward their camp. "Come on. We'd better get moving, hadn't we?"

***

The journey back to Calydon was a long one. Their day of rest had done them all good, but it was still a long trip for Alani. Both Iolaus and Hercules were used to travelling. Alani was eager to see Calydon again, and she knew that speed was important for another reason, so she tried to match the pace of the two men. By the time they stopped for lunch she was ready to rest for a week.

The serving girl in the tavern where they stopped was pretty enough to catch Iolaus' eye, and the hunter flirted with her over her jug of ale. She was obviously used to such treatment, and responded to his advances with tolerant humour. Iolaus made a game of trying to make her admit that something he said was funny, or interesting, or anything else he could take as a compliment. He had seen right away that the look of interest in her eye was for Hercules, not him, but since they wouldn't be staying, and Hercules never did return that sort of casual interest, he pretended not to see it and simply enjoyed himself.

Hercules was at least used to this sort of behaviour from Iolaus. This time he was pleased to see it: Iolaus behaving like his usual self suggested that there were no lasting consequences of his brush with death the other night. Iolaus usually managed to take everything in his stride, but there had been exceptions. Hercules was glad this wasn't one of them.

As Iolaus' remarks to the girl became increasingly outrageous, Hercules glanced at Alani, wondering how she was taking this. Alani was quiet, but didn't seem bothered. Then he remembered Iolaus' worrying report of the stories he had heard the day before. He asked the serving girl what he hoped was a casual question. At once, she took a seat between the two men and started to talk to Hercules, relating tale after exaggerated tale.

Iolaus shot him a "what-did-you-do-that-for" look, but refrained from voicing the complaint. Alani started to listen more closely. Eventually, they finished their meal and resumed their journey.

"I hope we're in time," Alani muttered aloud, as they reached the road.

"In time?" Hercules queried.

"The Chimera. After what that woman said…I just have an awful feeling we might be too late."

"Too late?" Iolaus repeated uneasily. "Alani, how much worse can that thing get? It looked bad enough when Herc fought it."

Alani stopped walking and stared at Hercules. "You _fought_ him?"

"I wouldn't call it fighting," Hercules said, with an annoyed look at Iolaus. "It was about to kill someone: I had to do something. I just kept it occupied until I could calm it down."

Iolaus snorted with laughter. "Sure looked like a fight to me!"

"Tell me what happened," Alani insisted.

***

Hercules' first sight of Calydon wood brought with it a rush of memories, pleasant and unpleasant. He glanced toward Alani, suddenly aware that she would be thinking much the same as he, and for the first time he wondered if bringing her back to face those memories was the wisest thing he could have done. Alani's expression was unreadable, but Hercules saw her lift a hand to the silver pendant she wore, as if for reassurance.

Calydon was an ancient woodland. To Iolaus' eyes it looked as if it had been untouched since the creation of the world. In his experience, woodland should show at least some sign of human management: if not the remains of trees felled for firewood or building, then paths created by travellers, or local people gathering deadwood for fuel, or hunters. Here in Calydon the trees came together above their heads to form a thick green canopy, blocking out most of the light; and the ground beneath their feet was soft loam, not worn pathway.

Iolaus automatically looked for signs of the life that would permeate a forest, and found it everywhere: he identified signs of rabbits and squirrels, several different game birds, porcupine, the distinctive tracks of deer, and predators as well, foxes and wolves. Yet, while his hunter's instinct noticed these things, for some reason hunting was the last thing on his mind. Somehow it did not seem appropriate, here.

"This place feels weird," he muttered.

Alani turned back to him: she had been walking ahead of the two men. She seemed nervous, skittish, but she smiled at his words. "The forest doesn't like unnecessary bloodshed," she said.

Alani hadn't intended to sound mysterious, but her reply irritated Iolaus. Rolling his eyes, he said, to Hercules, "The _forest_?"

Hercules shrugged. _You **did** ask,_ his look said. "Alani, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked the girl, seeing her start again.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I'm just imagining things." But her voice was shaking, a little.

Hercules caught up with her and made her stop walking. "What are you imagining?" As he touched her she jumped, stifling a cry. "Alani, stop," Hercules said firmly. He waited until she looked up at him. "Now, calm down. Tell me what you're feeling." Hercules spoke gently, and his presence made her feel safe. Focussing on that helped Alani to relax.

"I…I'm afraid," she said hesitantly.

"Of what?" he asked gently.

"I don't know! It's too bright! Fear…sadness, no worse than that… Where are they?" The words came in a torrent.

"They?" Hercules repeated. Then suddenly, he understood. "Alani, those aren't your feelings. What are you picking up?"

"Not…not my…" She looked around like a scared rabbit. Then, "Oh, Dark Lady! The Chimera! Please, I can't… I can't do this…"

"Someone's hunting it?" Iolaus guessed. After all the trouble it had caused, it was not surprising news.

"Alani, stay calm." Hercules spoke quietly, trying to reassure her. "You're not alone. I'm here with you. We'll do this _together_, OK?"

She nodded silently.

"Fine, then. Which way?"

Alani turned around slowly, stopping when she was facing downhill. "This way." She broke into a run.

Hercules was about to follow her when Iolaus pulled him back. "Herc? Since when did we fight to _defend_ monsters?"

Hercules gave Iolaus an exasperated look. "Since it was this one. Now, come on. Let's go." He followed Alani.

Alani reached the scene just in time. With no thought for herself, she ran between the hunters and the Chimera. A wave of her hand diverted an arrow already in the air. "Stop it!" she shouted. Alani hadn't had time to call on her goddess, nor to summon power. It was just there when she needed it. "Stop," she said again. Standing there before the beast, she looked terribly young, vulnerable. Yet her voice held an authority that belied her age, and her stance was confident.

Hercules' heart almost stopped when he saw her dive into the path of the arrow. He was close, but too far away to stop it. Then he saw the arrow actually change course in the air. _By the gods…_

Alani addressed the hunters again. "You must stop. You have to leave Calydon, now. I can only warn you, I can't be responsible if you stay."

"That beast is a killer!" one of them growled, hefting a spear.

Alani frowned. "That may be so. But think about what you're doing. You feel threatened, you want to kill what threatens you. That's no different from what he's been doing."

"We're men!" another protested. "It's an animal. A vicious animal."

"He is _not_ an animal. He thinks and feels, just as you do." Alani clutched Hecate's amulet firmly. _Hecate, mother of my spirit, I invoke your name, your power._ She looked sternly at each of the hunters in turn. "I offer you my word, he will cause no more deaths, no more suffering. Please, leave Calydon before you come to harm."

The hunter holding the spear hefted it again, prepared to throw. "_We_ won't come to harm, little girl."

Hercules and Alani both reacted in the same moment, but in very different ways. Alani stepped back as the spear left the man's hand. The pendant on her breast flared to incandescence and the ground where her feet had been exploded into flames. Hercules leapt forward to intercept the flying spear. He caught it, turned it around and cast it back toward the hunter who threw it, aiming, not for the man, but an inch or two above his head. The spear buried deep into the tree trunk behind the hunter. Alani's pillar of fire took him by surprise and he almost lost his balance trying to avoid it.

"Listen to her," Hercules told the men. "I know you've suffered, but she really can keep the beast in check. You don't have to do this." He was aware of Iolaus stepping up to his side.

"Hercules?" One of the hunters recognised him. "I thought you were on our side. What are you doing."

"He's trying to save your butts!" Iolaus told them. "You can't kill that thing. She's not gonna let you."

The hunters took some convincing. Alani's wall of fire had frightened them, but it was fear that had driven them to attack in the first place: fear alone could not deter them. But none of them wanted to fight Hercules. Several broken weapons later, they seemed to get the point. Only when the danger was over did Hercules realise Alani was no longer there. Neither was the beast she had tried to protect.

His first thought was of Dione's fate, and Hercules knew an instant of terror. Almost immediately, though, he realised he would have heard if anything had happened to Alani. She must have left on her own, or with the Chimera. Either way, of her own choice.

"Herc. This way." Iolaus pointed to the tracks in the loam.

Hercules nodded and followed his friend. Trust Iolaus to get there before him. They found Alani crouched among the gnarled roots of a tree: an oak so ancient its trunk was hollow. She was cradling a small animal in her arms, slowly stroking its head, speaking softly to it.

"Alani, are you alright?" Hercules asked, offering a hand to help her up.

She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. "Are they gone?" she asked.

Iolaus grinned at her. "I don't think they'll be back in a hurry. That fire trick of yours really scared 'em." _And me, too_, he was thinking. In that moment she had reminded him a little too much of Callisto.

"Then we're fine," Alani said. She set the animal she was carrying on the ground. At first sight it looked like a badger: same rough black and white fur, the right size, almost the right shape. But there were differences. Before either man could ask the obvious question, the creature started to grow, transforming before their eyes. It took only seconds. Alani stood before the Chimera, placing her palm flat against the rough hair between its eyes. A slow smile touched her lips. Then the huge creature turned away and trotted off into the forest.

Alani almost laughed aloud at the stunned surprise she saw in Hercules' face. "He has three shapes, Hercules. I thought you knew. Hecate works by threes."

***

Hercules had learned over the years to keep a tight rein on bad memories, not to let them interfere with what he had to do. So as they approached the cave – he would always think of it as Dione's cave – it was Alani he thought of, not himself. He need not have worried. They could see the cave for some distance before they reached it: this was the one part of Calydon where regular human use of the same route had created a visible path. Its entrance was dark.

As they came closer to the cave, however, Hercules caught sight of the flash of silver that accompanied Hecate's appearance. It almost felt familiar to him. Alani had seen it, too, and she quickened her pace, leaving both men behind in her haste to reach the cave. Alani paused at the cave's entrance, waiting. The figure of a woman emerging from the cave was visible to them all.

"Is that…?" Iolaus asked quietly.

"Hecate," Hercules confirmed. He watched Alani enter the cave with the goddess. "I think we should wait here, Iolaus."

Hercules couldn't relax. He tried to listen to Iolaus, to make the right answers as he talked, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His eyes kept returning to the mouth of the cave.

"Herc, if you're worried about her, go up there," Iolaus said suddenly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Hercules tore his eyes away from the cave. "That's not it," he told his friend.

"You could have fooled me."

"Really. I know you don't trust Hecate – neither do I, completely – but no god will harm one of her own worshippers. I'm not worried."

"Then what's wrong with you? You're as restless as a colt."

"Memories, that's all."

"Talk to me, Herc."

"The last time I was here, I found Dione dying. It's not a pleasant memory. When she showed me what had happened to her…"

"_Showed_ you? What do you mean?"

"Dione had…a gift. She… I don't know how to explain. Have you ever had a recurring nightmare?"

"Sure, when I was a kid."

"Right. Did you ever try to tell someone? You know how words just can't explain why it's so scary?"

Iolaus nodded, not sure where Hercules was going with this.

"So imagine that instead of trying to talk about it, you could take that nightmare and give it to someone else: make them see what you saw, feel what you felt. That's what Dione could do. Except it wasn't a dream, it was her memory."

"That's…that can't be possible."

"Believe me, it is. When I found her, she was too weak to talk. She couldn't have told me what she needed to say. So she showed me. She…gave me those memories. It's not an easy thing to deal with." Hercules' eyes were distant. "I don't know what I was expecting to find when I came back here. All those years ago, the time we spent together was…peaceful. Wonderful. Now all I can think of is the way she died."

"She meant a lot to you, didn't she?" Iolaus said quietly. He had been thinking of Hercules' relationship with Dione as a youthful one night stand…now he realised it had been much more than that, even if it hadn't lasted.

"She was like no one else I've ever known," he said. Then he turned to his friend with a playful grin. "There haven't been so many women in my life that I forget some of them."

Iolaus caught the change of mood with some relief. "Hey, that's not fair! I haven't forgotten a single one!" he protested, just slightly too loudly.

"Oh yeah? Let's see…" Hercules ducked to avoid Iolaus' friendly punch, and both men started to laugh.

***

Alani emerged from the cave a different person. She was robed now in white, a woven belt of silver encircling her slim waist, the silver pendant shining just above her breasts. Her hair had been brushed and styled, held back from her face with a mass of curls cascading down her back. Suddenly she looked much older. Even her bearing was different, more confident, more serene. For just an instant, when he saw her coming, Hercules thought she was Dione. The impression didn't last long, but he could see a great deal of her mother in Alani. He remembered how quickly Dione could change: one moment she would be as distant and mysterious as the goddess she served, the next almost like a child seeking reassurance; she could be stubborn and independent, yet in her passion was more honest, more giving than he would have thought possible. It seemed Alani would be much the same.

Alani walked up to Hercules and took both of his hands in hers. "I want to thank you, Hercules. Not just for saving me, but for being there for Dione when I wasn't. You did everything right, Hercules. I wish words could tell you…"

"You don't have to," he interrupted her gently.

She nodded, turning to Iolaus. "I owe you more than thanks," she told the surprised hunter. "I know you're not comfortable with what I am, but when I needed help you still risked your life for me."

Iolaus shrugged, a little embarrassed by her praise. "I couldn't do anything else," he said.

"I know. It's _because_ you couldn't that I survived. I won't forget it, Iolaus." Alani smiled, her eyes taking in both men. "You're welcome to stay here, for as long as you wish. I hope you will stay, at least for a few days. But for tonight…I have to ask you to leave me alone here. There are things I should do…for Dione, and for the Chimera. You can sleep in the forest. I promise you'll be safe."

"Are you sure you want to be alone?" Hercules asked her uncertainly.

Alani shook her head. "No. But I will be alone here for a long time, Hercules. I have to get used to it."


	7. Epilogue

#### Two Days Later

"I never realised quite how hard this would be for him," Alani said. She was watching Hercules from a distance as he walked up to Dione's grave.

"Herc has lost too many people in his life," Iolaus said quietly from beside her.

Alani nodded. "Goddess willing, this will be the last for some time."

"I doubt if your goddess gets a vote," Iolaus commented. It came out sounding more bitter than he had intended. They would be leaving Calydon in a few hours, he hadn't wanted to antagonise Alani any further.

She sighed heavily and turned to him. "Alright, Iolaus. Let's settle this, shall we?" She walked back into the cave; Iolaus followed reluctantly.

Alani sat on a pile of furs and gestured for Iolaus to join her. "Witch," she said shortly. "Sorceress. Evil enchantress. Is that what you think I am?" She got no reply. "For a man who willingly surrenders to one of Her gifts, you have an amazing level of distrust."

Iolaus knew what she meant: Alani had referred to sexual pleasure as a gift of the goddess, even as a ritual honouring of Her. It was true that Iolaus didn't like to sleep alone if he got a better offer, but… "I don't really see it that way," he told her. It was a fairly weak response.

"It doesn't matter how you see it, Iolaus. It only matters what is. I am a priestess. If that gives me some power, I at least know how to use it. What's your problem with that?"

He shook his head. "It's not you. It's Hecate. One of her creatures almost killed me once."

"But you were there to kill that creature, were you not?"

"Of course I was! She was evil, Alani. She caused so much suffering in that village…"

Alani nodded. "Iolaus, _life_ is about pain and suffering, just as much as it's about joy. You can't have one without the other. No light without darkness, no love without hate. The gods didn't create the world with a snap of their fingers or a word of power. She was born of Chaos and Night and it took aeons. No child is born except through labour. Yet any mother will tell you that the pain is worth it, and forgotten in the joy of new life."

"Nice philosophy," Iolaus said impatiently. "But it's got nothing to do with the subject."

"Yes, it does. But…" Alani bit her lip uneasily. "I can tell you, Iolaus, but you'd have to keep the secret. Hercules can't know."

"You know I won't promise to keep something from Herc."

"You don't have to promise. When you hear it, you'll understand. You see, he shared some of his memories with me, Iolaus, but I saw more than he intended." Alani had known without being told that when Hercules fathered her he bound a part of his destiny to Calydon. What she hadn't realised was that he didn't know it, didn't understand he had given Hecate an interest in his life. "Tell me, Iolaus," she asked the confused hunter, "when Hera killed his family, what would have happened if Hercules had continued his path of revenge?"

"I don't know."

"You _do_ know."

Alani's intense gaze bore into Iolaus, reminding him of his worse fears of those few days, forcing him to speak the words: "It would have killed him, Alani. If Hera hadn't done it, he would have taken his own life in the end. Because revenge is ultimately empty, and Hercules more than most needs a purpose in his life. Without his family to give him that…"

Alani's soft voice interrupted him. "Can you imagine a world without him Iolaus? Or perhaps a world where Hera's revenge twisted him to evil?"

Iolaus swallowed. He didn't want to tell her that he had no need to imagine either: he had _seen_ those worlds.

Alani answered his thoughts. "Then can you honestly tell me that the suffering of Ister, which was undone when the she-demon died, was not small price to pay for this man's rebirth?"

Iolaus felt as though she had knocked the breath out of him. He saw at once what she was suggesting. Even Zeus had refused to help Hercules during those awful days. But Zeus was bound by his own rules, and Hercules had said Hecate was not. "Alani, are you saying that…?" Suddenly Iolaus thought better of the half-voiced question. "No, don't answer that. If you do I'll have to tell Herc, and you're right. It wouldn't do him any good to hear it."

"She has her own ways, Iolaus. I cannot offer you reasons, or justifications. I do ask you to remember what happened, _everything_ that happened, and to consider if any real harm was done."

***

"Be safe, Alani." Hercules clasped her hand in both of his as he said goodbye.

She smiled up at him, tears in her eyes. "Don't wait fifteen years before your next visit," she said. "When you're weary of what the world expects of you, you can always find peace here in Calydon. Remember it."

"I promise."

Alani stood at the top of the pathway and watched them leave. She would miss the company. It was her destiny for now to live here alone. Which thought reminded her of her last conversation with Hercules. He had been concerned that she felt she had no choice about her life; he wanted to convince her that her destiny was in her own hands. Alani had tried to explain that she knew that. She stayed in Calydon by choice, for now. What she hadn't said was that she had already decided she wouldn't stay there forever. Oh, it wouldn't be for many years. She was still too young, she had a great deal left to learn. When she knew all her goddess was willing to teach, she would find a way to leave Calydon, find another guardian, perhaps, and go out into the world. It was time Hecate's name was heard and spoken in the world without fear.

Unconsciously, Hercules was taking the same route out of Calydon that he had taken fifteen years before, when he left Dione behind. He only realised it when he and Iolaus crossed a stream and he remembered the landmark. He didn't mention it, though. They talked very little as they walked. Iolaus was unusually quiet, no stories, no jokes, and Hercules wondered if something was bothering his friend.

He could see the edge of the trees, when Hecate appeared. She wore her maiden face, but her clothing was a long grey cloak concealing her entire body.

"Hecate," he greeted her evenly.

Iolaus glanced at him quickly. "I'll – uh – wait for you…" he muttered, waving a hand roughly in the direction they had been going.

When Iolaus was out of earshot, Hecate spoke. "I wish to add my thanks to Alani's, Hercules."

"I didn't do it for you."

"Nevertheless. I find myself in your debt. That is something I wish to repay."

"No." Hercules shook his head. "You and Dione both used me, Hecate. Don't think I'm not aware of that. I don't resent it: I loved Dione. But as far as I'm concerned, we're even, you and I. It's finished."

She inclined her head gracefully. "Unfortunately, it's not that simple. I _do_ owe you, son of Zeus. If you ask me for nothing now, remember it. You may find you wish to call in the debt, someday."

He frowned. There was a significance in what she was saying beyond the words. If only Hecate wouldn't talk in riddles. He was leaving Calydon now; he wanted to leave Hecate behind as well. Although he wished he didn't have to leave Alani…he didn't want to have found his daughter only to lose her again, like…

"Maybe there _is_ something you can do for me," he said suddenly. "Hecate, how well do you get along with Hera?"

The goddess' silver eyes narrowed. "We co-operate. Why?"

"Keep Alani safe from her." He tried to hide it, but his whole heart was in his eyes as he spoke. "Just keep her safe. That's all I'll ever ask of you, Hecate."

There was a softening in her eyes and for a moment he glimpsed blue behind the silver. "I will."

Hercules paused at the edge of the trees and glanced around. As closely as he could tell, this was the same spot where he had said goodbye to Dione. Iolaus was waiting for him a short distance away. This time, he wouldn't be leaving Calydon alone. He had a gift he wouldn't lose, his daughter.

And he knew he would be back.


End file.
